The Swan Fall
by Hoping for Eternity
Summary: When Bella falls, she falls hard. He is her gym teacher with a reputation and off limits to her. She craves him none the less, and maybe he's craving her a little as well? Rated M, EXB.
1. Sacrifice

**A/N: **This is a little something I've been working on for a while now. The idea is not very original, but don't give up on me yet.

**Summary:** When Bella falls, she falls hard. He is her gym teacher with a reputation and off limits to her. She craves him none the less, and maybe he's craving her a little as well?

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Rated M for sexual content and language.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the OCs. Meyer owns the rest.

**Chapter 1 – Sacrifice**

When I was a kid, I used to spend every single summer in a small town called Forks. It was a plain town consisting of just above 3000 inhabitants, all of them living out the happily-ever-after-apple-pie life. Although it may seem picture-perfect, I always found the scenery dull, making me quite a bit different from other girls my age. While my friends loved to play "house" or "doctor" when we were kids, I stood on the sideline, minding my own business, not interfering once. I've never wanted a white picket fence, nor a Labrador, station wagon or a devoted husband. The reason behind my reluctance for all things stable might've had something to do with the fact that I'd grown up with parents that rarely spoke to each other and lived hundreds of miles apart. As I grew older, my friends used to tease me that I'd end up lonely, with only my cats to keep me company. I loved cats, so that future never scared me.

I always thought my mother and I were on the same page when it came to our way of living - and I'm sure we were for a very long time - but then "lightning struck", as my mother called it, and Phil waltzed into her life, baseball cap and all that came along with it. It started out innocent at firs; just the occasional dates that left my mother's cheeks flushed with girlish stupidity - at least that's the way it looked through my eyes - before moving on to a whole new territory. The day Renee invited Phil to the house for the very first time, I knew we were in over both of our heads, although for different reasons. My solitude life that had only consisted of myself and Renee was shattered to something beyond recognition – I had one more person to consider now. My mother's heart had been turned from burning glows to an uncontrollable flame seemingly overnight, and Phil represented the logs of wood she needed to keep it stable and burning. I let her have him, because honestly I was too old to play the hormonal and moody teenager at that point. Causing a scene and demand that things were done my way had never been one of my qualities anyway.

I liked Phil from the second he crossed our doorstep. Sure, he was a bit too young for my mother, and not particularly handsome, but the major difference between him and my Renee's previous pursuers was the way he looked at her. And the simple fact that he smiled with his eyes. And, just because a fairytale romance never appealed to me, who was I to get in the way of my mother's happiness? She deserved to smile, to feel those butterflies she constantly went on about, and I would certainly give her that. And thus Phil became a permanent part of our little family the day my mother dressed up in a beautiful white dress and met him at the end of the aisle. I was happy for them both and helped Phil move out of his condo and into our modest, but charming house. Things weren't as cheerful after that however, although the newlyweds loved each other deeply.

Phil was nowhere close to being a professional baseball player, but you could tell that he put his whole soul and being into his profession. Because of this though, he was forced to stay away from home in long periods, seeing as Renee could never go with him because she had to take care of her only child. And, yes - that would be me. It killed her to watch him walk out of the door, a duffel bag thrown hastily over his shoulder, only to reappear for short periods of time. She would call him every night, once she was certain that she didn't meddle with his working hours. Sometimes, she cried. And I cried with her, all alone up in my room, thinking of some way to make myself less of a burden. I would never speak these words out loud however, knowing they would hurt my mother deeply. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if she would've been happier without me around. The answer to that question would probably be yes. A plan began to form in my head. As much as I detested the small town of Forks - where my father had taken up a permanent residence for many years now - I also missed him a bit. Charlie wasn't the most talkative person - much like myself - so whenever he called to check up on me, our conversations rarely lasted that long. I knew he was happy with his beloved small-town-life, and that he'd never consider leaving the home he'd built for himself there. If I were to live with my father and make Renee truly happy in the process, I would have to bite my tongue and move from Phoenix where I'd lived nearly all of my life. And that's what I decided to do - all to put a smile on my mother's face again so that she could go on the road with her beloved husband.

It rarely rained in Phoenix, but the day I decided to break the news about my movingplans to Renee, heavy droplets of water could be heard drumming endlessly against the window panes. I thought of it as a foreboding, meaning that she would support my decision and that I should get used to the rain - it was, after all, always wet in Forks. It was a Tuesday night, and I'd just finished cooking today's dinner when I cleared my throat uncomfortably. Renee's blonde head shot up from the Austen book she was reading and looked at me questioningly, her eyes read and puffy from what she thought was discreet crying - something she did often these days.

"Look mom," I sighed, leaning my back against the kitchen counter, trying my best not to sound as sad as I felt at that moment, "I need to talk to you,"

Renee slowly put the book away and gave me her full attention. I almost shed a tear at the apprehensive look she gave me.

"Yes Bella?"

I gripped the counter edge with the palms of my hands, bracing myself and knowing that there was no going back at this point.

"I think I want to move to Forks?"

There, it was said, and although it came out as a question, I managed to keep my voice from trembling. My mother's forehead furrowed in confusion as she frowned at my words, probably trying to make sense of them.

"But you hate Forks," she stated slowly.

I smiled and swallowed thickly, knowing that the lies would just keep coming from now on. And I was a _bad_ liar.

"No, I don't?"

Damn, that sounded like a question again.

"Oh_ really?_" Renee replied sarcastically, reaching for her book again. I knew she considered this as the end of our conversation. She'd already seen through me, and I hadn't even managed a proper try.

"I want to move to Forks. To Cha – dad,"

My voice was more firm this time as I was determined to get my will. Renee looked unsure now and she studied me silently for a small moment.

"Bella," she began and my shoulders sagged in disappointment. I knew what was coming, "don't you remember all of your trips there? How you came home calling Forks all the ungodly names you could think of and refused to even acknowledge its existence for a whole year until you had to go back there?"

I did remember that, as it was pretty hard to forget. I always used to throw the worst tantrums every summer, just before I was about to board the plane that would take me to that "horrid, boring and unappealing shitty excuse of a town." Those were my exact words, spoken every year since I was only five. I'd outgrown the sailor's mouth since then, but my opinion of that place remained unchanged. I had to move there now, though. I had to give Renee and Phil the chance to be together. There was no backing out.

"Mom," I sighed and stepped closer to her, my arms coming up to pull my fingers lovingly through her golden locks, "that was before. I think I need this – need to spend some time with Charlie before it's too late and I move away for College,"

It was a low-blow for sure and a fact she couldn't look away from. It was the only card I had left. I pulled away slightly to look at her, gauging her reaction. It worked, just like I knew it would.

"Oh baby," she sighed and pulled me close, "I didn't think about that,"

"This is my home, but I haven't spent as much time with dad as I ought to – as I want to. I think he deserves the pleasure of my company a little as well, don't you agree?" It was the final straw, the top of the icing and my words had my mother shed tears.

"Of course honey. I've been pretty selfish haven't I, keeping you to myself? How long now since you were in Forks last?"

"You know I don't mean it like that. I've refused to go, it's my fault. And it's three years," I hastily replied. Causing her to feel like a terrible person had never been my intention, although I could see how she would draw that conclusion from what I'd just said to her.

Renee pulled away and stood up on shaky legs. She cupped my face in her hands and gazed intently into my eyes, in which I tried to hide every doubt I was having. Finally she smiled.

"If this is what you want, baby,"

"I do,"

And in that moment, I uttered the last lie necessary and Renee caved completely.

It was days later that my mother discovered what my moving out meant for her, and that she could now go on the road with Phil. She came up with that all by herself - which was necessary. Had I mentioned this little fact to her, she'd see right through me and discover the true intentions behind my sudden plan instantly. All in all, I proved to be a more skilled liar than I'd given myself credit for, and Renee was dancing on clouds. This hurt a little, but I couldn't really blame her. I was doing this for her, after all.

***

The hug Charlie gave me once I met him at the airport was affectionate, but awkward all the same. He hadn't changed much - ever since I'd refused to continue spending my summers in Forks when I was 14, he'd flown all the way to Phoenix every year instead, so that we weren't totally depended on phone conversations. The color of his hair matched mine, although I'd gotten my slight waves and occasional curls from mom. His skin colour were a bit richer than my own - not nearly as sun kissed as my mothers, but still not as pale and translucent as me. Yes, I'd definitely inherited a lot from my father - both in looks and personality. The drive to Forks was a quiet event, although Charlie did make an effort at small talk. It was weird, but I politely replied to all of his questions, and then threw in some of my own to see if Forks really was as dreadfully boring as I remembered. Being the Chief of Police, Charlie knew his way around Forks, as well as its inhabitants, and through my questioning he subtly confirmed what I'd been dreading all along: in the three years I'd been gone, nothing had really changed at all. I internally groaned when I discovered this, looking out the windshield as the green scenery passed by on our way to Charlie's house. We stopped by the local grocery store on my command, as I suggested that I'd cook something for us both before we turned in for the night. Charlie was a bit reluctant at the idea, saying that he never expected me to cook for him every day, but once I assured him that I knew my way around the kitchen - unlike Renee - he followed me into the store with some bills clutched in his hand. The young man sitting at the cash register greeted the Chief Police with respect, as Charlie nodded politely in return. I couldn't ignore the guy's curious stare as his eyes settled on me, and my dad made a hasty introduction before pushing me down the aisles, not wanting to draw too much attention. I was grateful.

"Steak sound good to you?" I asked, grabbing random ingredients as I went.

"Sounds great." Charlie smiled.

It didn't take long before he had two paper bags in his hands, leading the way out to the parking lot. The guy at the cash register welcomed me back with a flirtatious smile.

Dinner was nothing spectacular, but I noticed that Charlie was really enjoying the home cooked meal. It brought a small smile to my face, despite the fact that I'd rather be thousands of miles away from my new home town.

_Just try to make the best of it. _I thought silently to myself while I did the dishes, receiving an awkward pat on the shoulder by Charlie as he bid me goodnight.

It wasn't long before I heard his bedroom door close shut, and I heaved a sigh of relief. After watching the soapy water swirl down the drain, I turned my back to the sink. The yellow cupboards in the kitchen were slightly hurting my eyes, and I was beginning to feel tired after a long and stressful day. Kicking off my sneakers in the hallway, I silently walked up the stairs and in to the room that, at the moment, consisted of a bed, a wardrobe, an old desk, and my suitcases. This had been my bedroom when I was little - and whenever I visited Charlie during the summer holidays - yet I'd never really left any traces of myself in it. I'd have to buy some pictures, just to make it more personal, or else I'd surely suffocate. Stripping down to my underwear I pulled out a pair of old sweats and a tank top from my suitcase, before lying down in the familiar, but also strange, bed. But, as I laid there, the rain drumming against the window would not let me rest. I sighed heavily, pulling the covers all the way up to my chin, trying to ignore the noise. And then, as the moon outside illuminated the cold room, the reality of my current situation came crashing down on me. I'd left my Mom. Left Phoenix, where I'd lived nearly all of my life. I'd abandoned my friends - not that I ever had that many - and my old school - in which I was doing well. There was no denying it. I'd made a huge mistake.


	2. Facing Facts

**A/N: Thanks, everyone, for favouriting and for your reviews!**

**Chapter 2 – Facing Facts**

I spent the next two days organizing my new bedroom to my own liking. Charlie had bought the most vital necessities for me, from the Strawberry scented shampoo sitting on the stand in the shower (and I had no idea how he knew that was the scent I always used) to the purple bed sheet adorning the surface of my single bed. I took the bus in to Port Angeles to purchase some other stuff like a new schoolbag – because I'd finally come to the conclusion that my old leather bag of five years was getting a bit too worn out – and a few picture frames so that I could have Renee with me even though she was far, far away. I'd developed some photos from my last few weeks back in Phoenix, most of them containing her and myself, our arms linked happily together. I'd never been the best photographer but I'd decided it was time that I started documenting my life and the people in it as my leaving Phoenix had made me realize that nothing truly lasts forever. It was a bittersweet event, unpacking the few belongings I'd brought with me. Charlie set up a brand new bookcase so that my old Austen classics wouldn't sustain too much damage from laying around, and while I was grateful for his silent token of affection, it bothered me a little that he felt the need to do this for me. I knew he appreciated my company, and certainly my cooking as I had come to understand that he spent most evenings eating steak at the local diner, which was not healthy at all. It occurred to me that he'd spent nearly all my existence lonely, ever since my mother walked out the door with me on her arm when I was just a baby. 15 years was an awfully long time to live alone. Still, although he'd never hover like Renee had a tendency of doing, it felt wrong of me to accept gifts when I knew he was trying to make up for all the time we'd spent apart.

Monday arrived sooner than I felt comfortable with, and it was time for me to attend Forks High for the very first time. It was March and the semester had already lasted long enough for me to know that I'd be "the new kid" until a new bunch Freshmen arrived in September. This thought was disturbing because I had never been one to seek out the spotlight and crave attention; quite the opposite in fact. I woke up feeling slightly queasy making me want to spill the previous night's dinner into the white porcelain toilet that I shared with Charlie. I gulped heavily and drew my body off of the soft mattress, grimacing as the consistent drumming of rain against the window panes made my head throb in protest. I'd never get used to the cold and wet, which was unfortunate because Forks seemed to consist of those very elements. I smacked my hand down on the alarm clock, making it buzz irritably before going silent. I could hear Charlie moving about downstairs, and I was alarmed when the smell of bacon seeped through the floorboards. Was he actually _cooking?_ Hoping he wouldn't burn the house down, I made my way over to the pile of clothes I'd picked out the previous day and gathered them in my arms. Locating a towel, I trudged out of the bedroom and across the hall, turning the lock the instant I was inside the bathroom. It was small and funny-colored, its tiled floor blue while the walls consisted of an egg white color. I wondered if maybe Renee was responsible for this room when she'd lived here, just like she'd painted the cupboards downstairs that ungodly shade of yellow. I showered quickly, wanting to make it downstairs before I smelt something burning.

"Hey dad," I said as I entered the kitchen twenty minutes later, twirling my damp hair up in a bun.

Charlie turned from his cooking and gave me a smile, forgetting the eggs that were surely overly well done in the process.

"You look nice," he offered before scooping the eggs onto two plates, next to the toast and bacon. I wondered when he was going to give up the pretence of the "typical" father and leave the breakfast cooking to me. Probably sometime next week.

I managed to resist the urge to roll my eyes at his comment, because I was wearing faded jeans and an old sweater, none of which were even close to "nice".

"Thanks," I said instead and took a seat at the small table, instantly digging into the food the second Charlie placed a plate in front of me. I was incredible nervous, so I wasn't able to get down that much, but at least it tasted better that I'd expected. I almost felt bad for thinking so lowly of my dad's cooking skills, but if my memory was correct, I'd usually come home from my summers in Forks two pounds heavier then I was when I left. Damn diner food.

"So, big day today," Charlie commented between mouthfuls.

"I guess," I shrugged, sipping my glass of OJ.

"New school,"

"Yeah,"

"Nervous?"

"A little,"

"It's going to be fine, Bells,"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks dad,"

And that last sentence ended our conversation. Charlie was a man of few words and I was no different, so no more chitchat was really necessary. I was just about to offer to do the dishes when a honk made me jump in surprise. Charlie just chuckled before walking out of the kitchen.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked timidly, wondering if I'd be forced to meet one of his colleagues or something this early in the morning. I followed in his footsteps and craned my neck as he opened up the front door and greeted whoever was disturbing our morning peace.

"Jake!"

"Hello Chief,"

A huge somebody stepped over the threshold and I frowned at the familiarity the face represented. It was a boy my age, a native by the looks of it, with long black hair that clung to the sides of his face after the short walk from the car to the house. He was undeniably handsome, with a strong jaw, full lips, and brown, calculating eyes as he stood staring at me. He had a kind of childlike quality to him, despite the fact that he towered over Charlie and myself; and wore his growing muscles strangely, a hint of awkward adolescence visible beneath his smile. I noticed with dismay how his eyes lingered on my nearly-there chest as he studied the Chief's daughter for a bit longer than strictly necessary.

_Jerk._

"Bells, you remember Jacob Black, don't you?" Charlie said, motioning between the boy and myself, clearly oblivious to this person's rude stare.

It clicked then, as I had a name to associate with the face, and I could see flashes of images before my eyes. They were of a small boy with black hair, chasing me around the front garden of this very house, many, many years ago. Another image was more recent, from my last visit here, where he blushed a deep crimson as he complimented my hair. Jacob was nowhere close to being that shy kid anymore and as I extended my hand in greeting, I felt a strange feeling of loss. We had been childhood friends, but there was nothing childlike about the way he smiled at me.

"Of course," I replied as he shook my hand.

"It's nice seeing you again Bella," He said, and his voice was deep and manly. It made me shudder slightly, having not expected the sensual undertone he spoke with. It was far from pleasant.

"Likewise Jacob,"

"Everything in place?" Charlie asked then, and I wondered what the hell he was talking about.

After receiving an affirmative nod from Jacob, he kicked his boots on and motioned for me to do the same.

"Dad?" I asked puzzled, but followed his lead none the less. Since Jacob hadn't bothered taking his shoes off in the first place, he walked outside and gestured towards something I couldn't yet see.

"A welcoming present, Bella," Charlie said and pushed me forwards, out into the unrelenting downpour of rain. I shuddered and put my arms around my waist, hugging myself to keep the warmth. There, standing in the driveway and basking in the morning mist stood an old truck behind the police cruiser. Its paintjob was old and worn and the vehicle itself was probably twice Charlie's age, but it was a beauty none the less, because of its rusty exterior. Other than the car though, there was nothing out of place.

"What present?" I asked.

"You're looking at it Bella," Jacob said, making me jump forward as I realized he was hovering right next to me, totally invading my personal space.

"What?" I snapped unhappily, feeling cold trails of liquid making their way down my shoulders now that I'd left the sanctuary of the roof in my hasty escape.

Instead of offering a verbal answer to my question, Charlie walked up to the beaten down truck and patted its hood proudly. I gaped at him for a moment as my brain worked on overdrive. Charlie had gotten me a _car?_

"Dad!" I exclaimed in surprise, momentarily forgetting the rain and the chilling wind as I made my way over to him.

"Bought it off of Billy Black last week. It should've been done the day you arrived, but this girl here is an old beauty and you can't rush perfection," he winked at me.

I raised my eyebrows at this because: a – he had just spoken more to me with that sentence then he'd done since I'd arrived in Forks a few days ago, b – because Charlie obviously held a secret passion for cars of all things, judging by the affection behind his words, and c – _he'd bought me a fucking car_.

"She's been ridden in that's for sure, but she's extremely stable on the road," Jacob cut in, grinning from ear to ear as he watched the exchange between Charlie and myself from the front porch.

I laughed out loud and threw my arms around Charlie, thanking him in the only way possible in this moment, "I love it!"

Charlie's cheeks flushed a bit as he patted my back and I hastily pulled away before we both became too uncomfortable. The smile he was giving me said more than enough though.

"You're welcome Bells. Can't have you hitching rides with strangers, can we? Or worse – _boys,_"

Jacob coughed at this and I sent him a dirty look, to which he responded with a sheepish smile.

_Double-jerk. _

"Thanks so much dad. And make sure to thank Billy for me, will you Jacob?" I said, remembering Jacob's father, stuck in a wheelchair, but with such a talent for cars his handicap hadn't been able to slow him down in the least.

"Erm, you know I helped too," Jacob said.

"I'm sure you did," was the reply he got.

I'd dealt with boys like him back in Phoenix, and although I'd never had to deal with many of them, there were enough for me to recognize the outward signs. Jacob Black was bad news.

***

I had expected to have to walk to my first day at Forks High. Or maybe get a ride with the police cruiser, a prospect that hadn't seemed very welcoming at all. It was strangely liberating to get into the front seat of my own car – which I now knew was an old Chevy – and drive through the pouring rain. I left Charlie's house twenty minutes earlier than was usually necessary, but I knew that I had to sign some papers at the teacher's office before my first day at a new school could officially begin. I pulled into the nearly deserted parking lot, finding a spot that I knew couldn't be all that popular since it was situated furthest away from the entrance leading into the main building. I didn't know which rules that applied for Forks, but it was a well known fact that some of parking spots were reserved for the "cool kids" back in Phoenix. Which was utterly ridiculous, of course, but after having stepped on their toes once as a Freshman by occupying a popular space with Renee's old Audi, I had learned my lesson. I stepped out of the truck and gave the hood a small pat, smiling slightly at the sight of it. It was a crappy old thing and I absolutely adored it, mostly because it was a gift from Charlie. Making my way over the lot, I hoisted my new book bag up on my shoulder and headed towards the sign that read "Teacher's office". The building was separated from the older, bigger one, situated to its left with plants running up and sticking to the brick wall. How they managed to survive in this cold weather was beyond my understanding. I opened up the door, bringing a gush of wind with me as I stepped over the threshold. The sight that greeted me was an unexpected one. Where my old school consisted of cold and empty spaces, this one was warm and cozy with paintings and several photographs adoring the walls. The front desk was full of plants, small decorative objects and papers, its inhabitant situated behind it looking nice and welcoming. I felt at ease here, and was surprised by this. She looked up as I drew nearer and gave me a warm smile while she pushed her glasses higher up on her nose.

"Hello," I greeted shyly.

"What can I do for you dear?" She asked, and I smiled in response.

"I'm Isabella Swan. This is my first day,"

Recognition settled on the older woman's face and her eyes widened slightly.

"Of course, how could I forget? I've been expecting you,"

I cringed but said nothing, knowing fully well that it was probable that this whole town had been awaiting my arrival. She pulled out a folder, probably my old papers from Phoenix, and handed me a sheet of paper.

"If you'll just sign here, Isabella, so that I can notify the principle that you've arrived," she said, and I did what I was told.

My handwriting had always been messy, and I tried my best to make my signature look a bit more appealing – not that I thought that this woman would care either way.

After handing the sheet back to her, she gave me my schedule. I frowned when I saw that Calculus was my first subject today. That didn't bode well at all.

"And if you could get your teachers to sign this and give it back to me by the end of the day, that would be great," the woman said, placing another sheet of paper in my hands. I nodded and told her thanks before I once again stepped out into the cold, what was supposed to me spring, air. A look at my watch told me that I had another fifteen minutes to kill before the first bell would ring, and I noticed that more cars had appeared in the parking lot while I was inside. I walked to the main entrance, finding that the door had been unlocked, and stepped inside. It was much cooler here than in the teacher's office, which was to be expected. It was a small school, it's hallways much more narrow than the ones back in Phoenix, and while it was still a few minutes left until the first class started, I could already tell that the student body was small. My shoulders sagged a bit, knowing it would be difficult not to draw any attention as I could only imagine that it was rare this school got any new additions in the middle of the school year. I looked down on my schedule and found my locker number scribbled down on the top right corner, along with its combination. I was surprised I didn't get to choose my own, afraid that a nosy student could have seen it. It wasn't very likely that I'd be robbed in this place however, seeing as there weren't any metal detectors around. Forks High was a safe school to attend.

I spent the remaining time finding my locker and pushing the few things I'd brought with me in it, along with the knitted scarf I'd chosen to wear today. I felt slightly overdressed when I saw other students rushing past me wearing leggings and thin jackets. Apparently, they were more thick-skinned than I was. Finally it was time for me to search for the room I was supposed to spend my first class in, and although the school was smaller than I was used to, I still found it difficult to find my way around. When the final bell rang, I was getting nervous.

"You're Isabella, right?" Someone suddenly asked.

I turned around and came face to face with a pale brunette, her eyes surrounded by rectangular glasses.

"Yes?" I confirmed curiously and shook her hand in greeting.

"I'm Angela," she smiled shyly, making me feel more at ease.

"Uhm, I'm in a bit of a hurry," I said, not wanting to be rude, but feeling the anxiety build up inside of me as I realized I was going to be late on my first day.

"I know, we share the same classes. I've been appointed to show you around,"

"Oh," I sighed in relief.

"Come on – the teacher is usually late, but we don't want to push out luck,"

I followed Angela through the hallways as she pointed at different doors, explaining what hid behind them.

"I should warn you," she said as we went through a set of double doors, peeking sideways at me, "the whole school has been talking about you for weeks. At least the Juniors,"

"Great," I groaned, making her laugh.

"It's not that bad, we're all just curious, you being the Chief's daughter and all,"

"Must seem frightening," I joked.

"Quite the opposite, actually. I think most of the guys find that fact intriguing,"

I huffed indignantly as we finally reached our destination and entered the classroom. I noticed that the teacher was indeed late and prayed a silent thanks to whatever God was watching over me. We were five minutes into class already. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, several heads turned in my direction. My new classmates stared as I walked behind Angela down the aisle, picking a spot in the back. I blushed at all the unwanted attention as the whole room erupted into murmurs. Angela, who'd seated herself next to me, just rolled her eyes sympathetically, and I could tell that, like me, she wasn't much of an attention seeker. Just as I was pulling my notebook out of my bag, a hand suddenly landed in my field of vision. I raised my head and stared at the boy sitting across the aisle of me, before I extended my arm.

"I'm Eric," the boy greeted, and I noticed how his face turned slightly red from embarrassment, clearly not used to being this bold.

"Bella," I smiled before turning my attention to the door as the teacher finally entered. He was middle aged and nearly bald. For some unexplainable reason he was wearing a grey suit jacket, as if he thought this would make him seem more superior somehow. Maybe he'd originally indented to teach at a college, but got stuck at Forks High and wasn't completely able to give up on his dream.

"Isabella Swan?" He called immediately, and the room went silent.

I stuck my hand into the air, "Present. And, uhm, it's Bella, "

"Welcome to Forks _Bella_," he smiled, but it was thin and forced.

I nodded and thanked him, hoping he wouldn't force me to introduce myself in front of the entire class. Judging by Angela's words, an introduction wasn't really necessary.

"I'm Mr. Warner and will be your teacher in Calculus the rest of the semester as well as your Senior year,"

_Oh joy._

He walked towards me, placing my reading list down on my desk before starting class, completely skipping my dreaded introduction. I was grateful. Looking down at the sheet of paper, I realized that I'd read most of the books listed there. Forks was clearly behind schedule – or maybe things were just organized differently here. I wouldn't know.

Class ended and Eric was instantly by my side.

"You must be pretty lost, huh? Want me to walk you to your next class?" He asked nervously. My eyes zeroed in on a huge zit on his chin and I swallowed.

"I kind of have Angela for that," I said, gesturing to the girl next to me.

"Hi Eric," she greeted happily as she packed her things.

"Uh, hi Ang," Eric said, but his attention was soon on me once more, "I could tag along, then?"

"You don't even know what her next class is," Angela cut in, and I could hear the laughter in her voice.

"Gym?" Eric asked hopefully, which was clearly his next subject.

I looked down on my schedule once again, "English Literature, actually,"

His shoulders sagged in disappointment.

"Leave the poor girl alone," another voice spoke up before a tall blonde boy with childish dimples appeared at Eric's left.

"I'm Mike. Mike Newton," he introduced himself.

"Hi," I smiled.

"And English Literature just happens to be my next class as well, so it seems like _I'll_ be the one tagging along,"

My smile fell.

The three of us left Eric looking like a lost puppy as Mike started up a conversation. Angela nodded politely, but I could tell that she couldn't really care less about whatever it was that was coming out of his mouth, and while I wanted to make new friends, I wasn't able to feel fully comfortable around him. It was the way his blue eyes would gaze into mine for a moment too long as his hand brushed my arm whenever I said something in return. He laughed at whatever I said, as though I kept telling him really good jokes, which wasn't the case. Worst part was that I didn't get the chance to talk to Angela at all, and I was really starting to feel comfortable with her. She seemed close to me in nature, polite but shy. Mike kept pressuring me for information about my old life back in Phoenix, a subject I wasn't comfortable about delving into. I missed the sun and the dry climate as well as my old bedroom which had been my sanctuary for nearly all of my life. I missed Mr. and Mrs. Grey, my old neighbors who'd often cooked me dinner and invited me to stay over for a couple of nights when my mother's work kept her from home. But most of all, I missed Renee and all of her girlish silliness and motherly flaws. I felt a familiar prickling sensation in my eyes and hastily blinked the tears away. Mike didn't even notice, he just kept going on about how he'd always wanted to visit Arizona so that he would be able to get a decent tan. And that, of course, led him to asking why I was so pale, my skin nearly see-through despite having grown up in one of the sunniest states in America. I didn't have a proper answer for that one, but Angela saved me by asking about Mike's basketball. He was on the school team, and clearly proud of that fact as well as his attention was diverted from my paleness and he began talking about the last match. When we entered English Literature I'd managed to get my emotions in check and I seated myself next to Angela once more.

***

By lunch time, Mike was really getting on my nerves. I guess he was good looking from an objective point of view, and as we walked together along with Angela through the corridors towards the school's cafeteria, we managed to attract plenty of attention from obviously jealous girls. I guess "the new girl" didn't score any brownie points with them. But in the short time I'd known him, I'd gotten to know his personality a little better, and he was very aware that he was considered good looking, which of course disgusted me. I guess he was a nice guy and I'd gladly have him as a friend, but by the way he was ogling my chest – much like Jacob had done a few hours previous – it was clear that he had other ideas. I guess scoring with the newest addition to Forks High would raise his popularity status even further, and the fact that I was the Chief Police's daughter was just an added bonus. I wasn't interested and tried to tell him so through small actions, like the way I made sure that Angela was always walking between the two of us at any given occasion. She didn't seem to mind, but I could tell that she thought this whole situation was pretty amusing. He invited us to sit with him and his friends during lunch, to which Angela agreed before I could even muster up the courage to decline. It was the largest table in the school's cafeteria by far and situated in the middle of the brightly lit room. His friends consisted mostly of his fellow team members from the school's basketball team along with a few cheerleaders. Angela introduced me to a short girl with wild, curly hair named Jessica, who smiled falsely at me before turning away. Sitting to her left was a blonde, blue eyed girl named Lauren, and had it not been for the sour look on her face as she stared me down, I would've thought her gorgeous. Ah hell, she was beautiful either way, despite looking as though she was about to throw up any given minute just by sitting at the same table as Angela and I. Clearly she considered us beneath her standards. Next was Tyler, a tall, dark guy with a row of perfect, shiny teeth. He flashed his Colgate smile at me as he shook my hand in greeting and I liked him instantly. His gaze never even ventured near my chest. Lunch was a busy event, as I was left answering questions being thrown at me from everywhere. I absolutely hated the attention but tried my best to be polite and smile as often as I could. Lauren made some snide comment about my worn-out sweater, but Mike quickly shut her up by telling her he disagreed; in fact, he thought I looked really nice. Although grateful, his words made me cringe. Angela kept silent throughout most of it and sent me pitying looks whenever a blush colored my cheeks as I had to practically share my whole life story to a very nosy Eric. Not that I did – everything I said was carefully calculated and edited. I'd never given any thought to the whole "first impression" thing, but if I couldn't even think about my old home without getting tears in my eyes, there was no way I was actually going to talk about it to anyone. The torture endured for the remaining lunch time, until we all got to our feet and hoisted our book bags up on our shoulders. Jessica complimented my new one with obvious jealousy, making Lauren shoot her a dirty look.

"What's next?" I asked Angela as we exited the double doors that led into the hallway.

"Oh I'll tell you what's next," Jessica giggled, having overheard my question where she was walking behind of me. Even Lauren smiled as she seemed to follow Jessica's train of thought, which made me feel uneasy.

"Gym," Angela simply said, her eyes turning pink as her eyes glazed slightly over for no apparent reason.

"And since when did Gym become this exciting?" I asked skeptically.

"You'll see," Angela winked at me before she did something totally uncharacteristic of her – she linked her arm through mine and dragged me along.

"Eh, Angela?"

"Don't pay attention to them," came suddenly Mike's irritated voice as he caught up with us, his usually warm eyes turning hostile.

I blinked in confusion and focused my attention back at Angela who was no giggling like the schoolgirl she was.

"What is going on?"

"Gym, my Bella, is your new favorite subject," she said, as if that was some sort of explanation to the girls' odd behavior.

"And the guys absolutely loathes it," Jessica cut in, tossing her curls over her shoulder.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" I asked.

"It should, but you're attending Forks High now, and we have had several new additions this year," Mike replied grumpily.

"Like a certain someone teaching the very class we're heading to," Lauren snickered.

I finally caught up with the rest of them and rolled my eyes, "Please don't say you've all got a thing for this certain someone?"

Lauren mock-gasped and clutched her chest, acting shocked, "Why Bella, what would make you draw such a conclusion?"

Her acting skills proved futile as she erupted into giggles, like the two other girls at my side.

"Great," I sighed, not really looking forward to the next period at all. Not only was I a complete klutz who barely managed to walk across a flat surface, but I hadn't brought any extra clothes with me, having not considered that Gym might be on the schedule for today. I voiced my concerns out loud, and Angela patted my arm reassuringly.

"I've got a pair of extra sweats with me that you can borrow. I assume you're wearing a t-shirt beneath that?" She gestured towards my sweater, and I tried not to be offended by the fact that she'd referred to it as a "that" rather than its actual name.

"Thanks Angela," I smiled.

"Any time,"

We all but ran down the stairs leading to the two locker rooms, before telling the boys a momentarily goodbye as we entered the girls' one. Lauren and Jessica's heads were huddled together as they chose their own, private bench and went about changing clothes. Angela pulled me towards a different one on the other side of the room before thrusting a pair of baggy, grey sweats in my hands. As I got ready, I idly wondered what to expect once I entered the Gym hall, never actually considering this teacher to turn out as good looking as the girls made him out to be. As it was, I have been proven wrong many times in my life – and this was one of them.


	3. First Sight

**A/N: **First of all, thank you so much for your support. I really hope you like this next one, and please tell me what you think of it. Remember, I love reviews.

I've also made a banner for this fanfic. I'd really like to hear what you think of it: **h t t p : / / i 9 6 4 . p h o t o b u c k e t . c o m / a l b u m s / a e 1 2 4 / c a e l i s e p h o t o / T w i l i g h t / T h e S w a n F a l l . j p g. **Remove the spacing, of course. With that said - enjoy.

**Chapter 3 – First Sight**

"They're old and worn but they'll do," Angela said as I pulled her extra pair of sweats up over my thighs.

"It's just gym Angela. They're perfect," I replied as the cotton caressed my legs.

"The others wouldn't have been caught dead wearing those," she laughed.

I looked over at Lauren and Jessica and saw that a few other girls had arrived in the locker rooms while Angela and I had been changing. Not a single pair of sweats was to be seen on them as they wore tight leggings that clung to their slim figures. Several paired them with tank tops that matched their leggings' color, looking as though they were attending a party rather than the school's gym hall. I subtly rolled my eyes before giving my new friend a cheeky grin.

"Pathetic, huh?" Angela said.

"Uh-huh. How are they able to run around without anything falling… well, _out?_"

"I think they're sort of hoping something will fall out. That way, they'll have the Coach's attention for sure," she explained.

"All this for a teacher?"

"And then some,"

I saw the girls huddle together in front of the only mirror hanging on the white, brick wall, applying coats of lipgloss and foundation as though their lives depended on it. They were all in a rush, and I cringed as I noticed how Jessica sprayed her curls in order to give them even more volume (as if that was strictly necessary), intoxicating the rest of the room in the process.

"Bleh," Angela scoffed, waving her hand in front of her face as she grabbed my arm, "let's get out of here before we choke to death,"

I silently agreed and followed her through the door leading into the gym hall. Most of the boys were already present, chitchatting amongst themselves as they waited for the girls and the Coach to arrive so that class could start.

"I can't believe they go through all of that for a teacher," I said, pointing my thumb backwards to where we'd just come from.

"I can't either. I mean he's hot as hell, but they should know better. Besides, it's not like they actually have a chance most of them," Angela replied.

"What do you mean "most of them"?"

Angela hesitated, "Really Bella, it's just rumors,"

I frowned, "And?"

"Ok, listen," Angela sighed, "the Coach is kind of young. He graduated College or something last spring and started teaching here the following fall. He's like twenty-something and close to our age,"

"But he's still a teacher," I reminded her.

"You don't have to tell me that. I know, and I wouldn't even begin to try something with him. Lauren, for example, does not have such qualms,"

"Which means?" I asked hesitantly.

"She flirts and makes sure she gets his attention in every class, bragging about it to the rest of the school later. She claims that if it hadn't been for the whole "teacher-student" policy, they'd be dating for sure. That the Coach himself has even told her so,"

"You've got to be kidding me," I deadpanned.

"Nope," Angela replied, popping the "o" mischievously, "it's her word though, and I wouldn't put too much into it,"

"Wow. This is even worse than Phoenix," I said amazed.

"Small towns and all that. We always have to blow things way out of proportion," she shrugged.

"I can tell," I snickered, "do you think there's any truth to the rumors, though?"

"Not really. But it's not like the Coach doesn't like the attention – he's a huge flirt. Which is also why I know that he doesn't have to go to his students to get laid. Women must throw themselves at him every day. Women his own age, that is,"

"Huh. You know, I'm really starting to wonder what this guy looks like if he's got all the female population of Forks High to act like this,"

"You'll see soon enough," Angela winked.

Just then our conversation was interrupted by Mike who carelessly slung his arm around my shoulders and drew me close.

"What's up Arizona? You ready to sweat?"

I rolled my eyes at him, "Jeez Mike, can you be anymore cheesy?"

He snickered, "Feisty. I like that,"

I had to choke down my own vomit at that comment.

When everyone had gathered in the gym hall, the door to the Coach's office opened with a silent click. I tried to be subtle about it, thinking my fellow classmates were pathetic for lusting after their teacher, but couldn't help but strain my neck in order to get a glimpse of this mysterious "hot stuff". Angela's words, not mine. What met my gaze however was a stern-looking, middle-aged woman wearing an old tracksuit, her steps swift and deliberate as she made her way over to us. The girls groaned in disappointment, and even some of the guys' frowned at her arrival. I had no admit I was slightly taken off guard as she started barking orders left and right, making me assume she wasn't anyone's favorite teacher – at least not compared to her colleague.

"What are you standing there for? Form a line Asap!" She yelled, and I nearly jumped out of my skin in shock.

"I don't really think he's my type," I whispered jokingly at Angela, making her giggle.

"The Coach must be out of town or something," she explained.

"Figured as much,"

"Mrs. Geoff?" Jessica piped up timidly as the woman showed and pulled at us in order to form a straight line.

"Yes Miss Stanley?" Came the impatient answer.

"Where's the Coach?"

"Not here,"

I snickered. Maybe this woman wasn't as bad after all.

***

"What a hag…." I groaned while limping my way out of the locker room doors with my schoolbag trailing by its hem on the floor after me. Angela quickly removed it from my grasp and hoisted it up on her shoulder.

"Are you sure you can drive?" She asked hesitantly.

"I'll be fine. Nothing hurt but my pride," I sighed and thought back to my ungraceful fall as I tripped over the football. No more dribbling for me. Of course, being the most unsympathetic teacher I'd ever met, Mrs. Geoff hadn't even allowed me to sit down, insisting that I couldn't be _that_ hurt. My foot was swollen and sore now as I closed the remaining distance between the school entrance and my car.

"If you say so…" Angela trailed off, seeming unconvinced.

"If it hurts too much I'll pull over and call you," I compromised.

"Deal," she nodded and handed me back the bag.

"Too bad Cullen wasn't here today. He'd let you skip rest of the class for sure after that fall of yours. He's such a gentleman,"

"The Coach you mean? Yeah well, my loss I guess," I said and rolled my eyes at her.

"You'll see him next class. I hope. I mean, he has to come back soon, right?" Angela asked worriedly.

"Chill. I mean jeez, this isn't healthy you know,"

"I know," she sighed wistfully.

"Ok… well, see you," I said awkwardly as we reached the old Chevy and I climbed into the driver's seat.

"See you. And Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"He really is that gorgeous. You'll see," and with that she winked and turned her back on me.

I grimaced and pulled out of my spot before maneuvering the old truck onto the main road. Trying in vain to get some sound of the radio, I was forced to spend the ride in complete silence – with the exception of the roaring of the engine as I pushed the car to its limits. It wasn't long before I pulled into the driveway of Charlie's house and limped the short distance to the front door. The cruiser was nowhere to be seen so I assumed Charlie was still at work.

The house was dark and silent when I entered, the afternoon sky gray and offering close to no light in the living room. I switched on a few lamps before wobbling my way up the stairs and into my now familiar bedroom, plumping my whole body heavily down on the bed. My foot protested as I rested it on the soft comforter and I let out an irritated huff. Why did I always have to go and injure myself in some way or another? I remembered the embarrassing moment when I fell flat on my butt in the gym hall, my outburst so shocked and loud it attracted the attention of both Mrs. Geoff and Mike. The latter had come running towards my spot on the floor and all but lifted me onto his lap in his haste to comfort me. Thank god for Mrs. Geoff's no-bullshit policy as she'd shooed him away. Unfortunately, a swollen ankle must've been an everyday occurrence in her classes as she'd simply lend me a helping hand to get back up on my feet before insisting I "walk it off".

_Bitch._

Now I was left with a throbbing foot and a severely wounded pride. I bent over and picked up my schoolbag, thinking I could at least get some homework done. Not that I had that much, but at least it would keep my mind occupied until Charlie came home.

***

It was the next day and I was sitting on the kitchen counter, nibbling on a piece of toast. For the first time since I'd arrived in Forks, the sun was making its long missed appearance known, resting on the blue sky outside. Gleaming rays stretched over the linoleum floor, highlighting the dull color and hitting me square in the face. I didn't mind. I could hear Charlie's footsteps as he made his way down the stairs and braced myself, swinging my injured foot back and forth to keep up the appearance. As soon as he entered the kitchen, his eyes landed on me before travelling down and settling on my ankle.

"Bella…"

I sighed and pushed off the counter, holding back a wince as I landed on the floor.

"I'm fine dad,"

"I could always write you a note so that you can stay home and rest," he said hesitantly before taking a seat by the table where a plate of toast and egg waited for him. I turned my back to the kitchen and walked out into the hallway, throwing a jacket over my shoulders.

"No need, it's much better than yesterday," I assured him. And it really was, the swelling in my ankle had gone down and although it was still a little sore, I figured I'd take Mrs. Geoff's advice from yesterday and walk it off. Besides, I didn't have gym today so there was no danger of injuring it even further.

"If you're sure," Charlie still didn't sound convinced.

I walked back into the kitchen and gave him a hug from behind, making sure not to prolong the contact.

"I am. Have a nice day dad,"

I didn't give him the chance to say anything more as I hastily walked out of the house and slammed the door. The Chevy's paintjob seemed almost orange in the sunlight and I realized that I should start saving money to get some work done on it. It hummed then roared to life as I set the key in the ignition before pulling out of the driveway. Forks truly was an amazing sight this day, the trees and local park seemed almost impossibly green as I maneuvered my way through the streets. Early risers were strolling down the sidewalks, some even waving once I drew near. It made me slightly uncomfortable, having never even talked to these people, but I politely lifted my hand and waved back.

_What a weird little town._

I wasn't the first one to arrive Folks High this day and I waited patiently in line before securing a parking spot. Tyler beamed at me as I got out of the car and I timidly threw him a smile back before walking in across the pavement towards him. He was standing next to a black monster of a car and I raised my eyebrow at it as Tyler greeted me hello.

"What's this?" I asked, letting my hand travel across the shiny surface.

"Don't ask – it used to belong to my dad, and instead of buying me a car when I turned 16, he gave me this one instead," Tyler huffed before walking alongside me towards the school entrance.

"So you and Mike, huh?" He suddenly asked, throwing me completely off guard.

I gaped at him in horror, making him snicker.

"I thought so," he mumbled.

"Don't get me wrong. I mean, Mike is a seems like a great guy and all that –"

He threw his hands up in surrender in order to stop my rant, "Not your type, eh?"

I rolled my eyes, "Not at all,"

"So what is your type exactly?" He asked.

"I don't know, I guess I haven't got one yet," I shyly replied.

"So no one's waiting for you back in Arizona?"

"Nope,"

"Well, well, well…" Tyler hummed, casting me a sideways glance.

I was instantly on guard.

"I'm not really dating at the moment,"

"You're not?" He asked perplexed, clearly not having expected that.

"No, you know I'm busy with schoolwork and… yeah…" I said, not able to come up with a decent excuse. Judging by the look on Tyler's face, he hadn't picked up on my subtle hint.

"Maybe we could do something together one day?" He asked.

_Yeah, clearly not very observant._

"I don't know. Maybe," I offered half-heartedly. Tyler beamed.

Suddenly a flash made me squint my eyes and I blinked several times to clear my vision.

"Eric, what the hell?" Tyler roared as he frowned at the black haired teen suddenly standing in front of us.

Eric blushed, making his zits stand out even more in his narrow face before waving a camera in front of our faces.

"For the school's yearbook," he replied, giving me a shy smile.

I tried to fight my irritation and smile back, but all I was able to give in return was a smile grimace.

"Sorry," Eric muttered before shuffling his feet away from us.

"Jeez, what a dork," Tyler shook his head, "anyways, I'll catch up with you later Bella,"

"Sure thing Tyler," I said as we parted ways, me heading towards my locker.

As I drew nearer my face lit up in a genuine smile. Leaning against the cold steel was Angela.

"Hey you," I greeted her as I approached.

"Bella – he's back!" She all but squealed, jumping up and down on the spot.

I frowned in confusion, "Who is?"

Angela gave me an incredulous look, "Who do you think? Coach Cullen of course! I saw him in the parking lot just ten minutes ago,"

_Oh joy. I should have known._

"Great," I said sarcastically as I twisted on the small lock, finally finding the right combination. The door swung open and I shoved a few books in the small space before closing it. Angela hadn't moved an inch.

"Seriously Bella, you're going to have to eat your own words before you know it," she said matter-of-factly, linking her arm through mine and walking with me down the hallway. Ignoring her comment, I simply chose to check my schedule which I was still carrying around with me everywhere I went.

"Calculus _again?_"

"Twice a week. That goes for all the other subjects as well. Including _gym,_" Angela nicely pointed out, her voice dropping seductively at the end of her statement. I ignored that as well.

"We don't have gym today," I reminded her.

"No, we'll have to wait until tomorrow, I'm afraid," she sighed.

"I'm not complaining,"

"I'm sure you aren't, but you don't know what you're missing out on either," Angela giggled.

I stopped short and placed my hand on her shoulder, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Angela?"

"Yes?" She replied quizzically at my sudden shift in mood.

"You need a boyfriend – _your own age_," I said mock-serious.

My joke earned me a slap on the arm.

***

Calculus was hell, but that was to be expected. Mr. Warner managed to give his students loads of homework in just under two hours, making him my least favorite teacher, next to Mrs. Geoff of course. At least the sun stayed put and when Biology was over and done with, Angela and I managed to secure a bench outside rather than choosing to sit with Mike and his friends in the school's cafeteria. I even had to pull off my jacket as it turned out to be too hot for anything more than a thick sweater. Angela instantly rolled up the legs of her jeans in order to get some much needed color on her legs, stating that she looked like walking, talking ghost. I chose not to mention that next to her, I looked like an albino. It was while sitting there that a second flash of the day had me wince and shut my eyes momentarily. When I opened them, I saw that it was the shiny surface of a silver Volvo reflecting the afternoon sun that had caught my attention. The vehicle looked out of place somehow, situated in the far corner of the parking lot. It was after a moment that I realized it must be very expensive. I didn't know anything about cars, but next to the other old cars in the parking lot, it was easy to see that the silver Volvo was new and therefore worth a lot of money. While I stared at it, a tall somebody climbed out of the driver's seat. The sound of the door slamming shut reached us and made Angela turn her head in the direction of the car as well.

"Oh my God!" She whispered before nudging me in the side with her elbow. "Bella, that's _him_,"

"Him who?" I wondered out loud as my eyes fixated on the figure now moving across the lot.

"The Coach,"

I glanced quickly at her, my eyebrows raised, "That's Mr. Wonderful? The one you're drooling over?"

"The one and only," she winked before motioning for me to turn my head, "Look at him – just _look,_"

I rolled my eyes but did as I was told.

_Poor guy._

Half the lot laid in shadow, as the sun hung lower of the sky now and wasn't as bright as it had been earlier this morning. It was still warm outside though, and I noticed that the person I now could identify as the Coach was only wearing a white t-shirt. His hair was suddenly caught by a sunbeam, and the color surprised me. It was brown from what I could tell, but looked almost bronze-like in this light. It stuck up in every direction and was a total mess, as if its owner hadn't bothered to even pull a hairbrush through it.

_Lazy ass._

The next thing I noticed was how this figure moved.

_He knows he's good looking,_ I suddenly realized.

Every step he took was a laid-back and confident one, his head raised high and standing proudly on his shoulders. Sunglasses shielded his eyes, but a strong jaw made up evidently good-looking features. He was too far away for me to make any more assumptions, but I knew that I would not be lusting after this man like the pathetic girls in my class did. I was above such behavior, and I knew I would spend the rest of the school year proving that to him. Suddenly, my face melted into a mischievous grin.

_I will not end up on this man's Christmas card list, for sure._


	4. The Fall

**A/N: **From now on I'm gonna start answering reviews properly, because you all really make my day. And finally we get some Bella/Edward interaction! I hope you like this one, I've worked quite hard on it.

I also want to thank those of you who've put this story and me on alert and favorite. It means a lot!

Now, enjoy!

**Chapter 4 – The Fall**

Wednesday arrived with clouds hanging dangerously low on the morning sky, and the signature telltale of rain drumming against the roof woke me up earlier than strictly necessary. I rolled over and buried my face down in my soft pillow cursing everything cold and wet yet again. I had hoped that the sun would stay put a little longer, but it didn't seem like luck was on my side as a clash of thunder rolled across the sky and made the small wooden house that was my new permanent home shake in protest. Detecting no sounds coming from downstairs I figured Charlie wasn't up yet, which again led me to the assumption that it wasn't even 7 AM. Not even bothering to try and catch some more sleep, I slipped out from beneath the covers and tip-toed across the floorboards and over to my closet. Deciding on comfort rather than looks and appearance I headed for the bathroom clutching a tattered pair of jeans and an old woolen cardigan coupled with a white cotton top in my hands. The warmth of the spray from the shower eased my muscles and I sighed contently. I could distinctly make out the sound of a honk coming from outside as I got dressed and frowned in confusion. Then someone was knocking on the front door and I hurriedly fastened my hair in a bun before running down the stairs. My efforts were in vain when I saw that Charlie had beaten me to it, having presumably gotten up while I was in the bathroom. Through the door came a dripping wet Jacob Black once again and I inwardly groaned as his nearly black eyes settled on me, hoping that my skin wasn't damp enough that it made my top see-through.

"Hey Bella," he greeted, letting his gaze run up and down my length and I stubbornly jutted my chin out and nodded curtly back at him. By his side sat a man in a wheelchair whom I instantly recognized as Billy Black. He too shouted out a merry greeting and I quickly shook his hand.

"Well, look at you!" He exclaimed beaming, his hold on my hand tightening, "all grown up,"

Charlie muttered something unintelligent under his breath, raking a hand through his tousled hair. He didn't seem awake enough to really do anything but blink tiredly at our guests.

"You're what, 17 now?" Billy asked.

"Yes," I affirmed, smiling shyly at the man sitting before me. My memories of Billy Black were happy ones. He'd been in that wheelchair for as long as I could remember, now depending on Jacob to drive him wherever he went. I guessed that was why his son was accompanying him this morning.

"Don't they grow up fast, huh Charlie?" He continued, casting my father a sideways glace.

"They sure do," Charlie replied before leading the way into the living room.

"What's going on?" I asked as I followed them, all the way making sure to keep as much distance from Jacob as possible. I felt rude to do so, but he merely grinned cockily at me once he noticed how uncomfortable he made me, obviously flattered.

"I have the day off today. Billy and I are meeting up with Harry Clearwater to go fishing," my father explained as he turned on the TV to catch a glimpse of the morning news before offering Jacob and Billy a cup of hot, steaming coffee. I poured myself a cup as well, needing the caffeine badly.

_Huh. I didn't know he could boil water._

"In this weather?" I asked incredulously.

"That's when the fish bites best," Jacob winked.

Yeah, he actually winked.

_Cheeseball._

"Ok…" I hesitated before deciding against saying anything more and turning around to walk upstairs, all the while clinging to the cup to warm my hands. I guessed it was really cold outside today and decided to turn the heating on as I entered the hallway. An old oil oven stood there and I flipped the switch on.

"Where are you going?" Jacob instantly asked.

I turned my head and raised my eyebrows at him, not liking his clingy nature, "Upstairs to finish getting ready,"

"You look fit to go if you ask me," Jacob smiled.

"Well, I'm not," I simply replied before setting my cup aside and continuing upstairs. Once there I remembered that I had to pack my gym bag and inwardly groaned. This was going to be an awful day. I found a pair of sweats, not different from those I'd borrowed from Angela, and a baggy t-shirt before stuffing them in a plastic bag. Deciding I needed trainers, I threw them in as well. A sudden knock on my door made me halt my actions and look up. There, standing in the doorway, staring intently around my room, stood none other than Jacob Black. He'd followed me up here.

"A girl's bedroom is very private," I pointed out in a clipped an annoyed tone, straightening up and facing him.

"You're a girl?" He laughed.

"Was that supposed to be funny?" I scoffed.

"You know, I really love getting a reaction from you. You've always been feisty,"

"What do you want Jacob?" I snapped impatiently before stuffing the plastic bag into my schoolbag and throwing on an old yellow raincoat that used to belong to Renee. It was my favorite, and it would come in handy today.

"Nice color on you," Jacob said sarcastically, wrinkling his nose as he took me in.

"I can't recall asking for your opinion," I said, "now are you just going to stand there, or did you want something in particular?"

"Oh I can think of a few things I want from you," he snickered.

Chills went up my spine as the words left his mouth and I shuddered, "Quit it,"

Jacob raised his hands in mock-surrender, "Fine, fine. Anyways, I was wondering if you'd like to hang out some day? You know, go to the movies or something like that,"

_You've got to be kidding me._

"I'm busy," I said making my way passed him and shutting my bed room door in the process. Jacob followed close behind.

"You can't be that busy,"

"Believe me, whenever you're concerned, I'll always be busy,"

"Ouch,"

I sighed and stopped, turning around to face him. We were at the top of the staircase and I lowered my voice so that Billy and Charlie wouldn't overhear what I was about to say.

"Look Jake. I'm sure you're a cool guy when you're not trying so hard, but I'm not dating at the moment,"

If I thought my words of discouragement would affect the young man standing in front of me, I was sorely mistaken.

"I'll just keep asking until you agree, Bella,"

"Well then, I hope you enjoy disappointment," and with those words I descended the stairs, leaving him tongue-tied behind. I bid a hasty goodbye to Charlie and Billy before opening the front door, preparing myself mentally and physically for the onslaught of rain that would meet me once I left the sanctuary of the house.

***

Angela met up with me in the hallway as I made my way to Biology and we hastened our pace to secure good seats – which meant the back row. I was really warming up to this girl as we talked nonsense until the teacher made his presence known and called for silence. He pushed an old-fashioned TV into the room, declaring that we would spend the next two hours watching a movie on genetics. It was as boring as it sounded and it wasn't long before Angela and I started passing notes back and forth. The light was off and several of our classmates chose to spend their time with their heads on their desks. The teacher never called them on it, as he seemed too engrossed in what was going on on the screen to even notice. The class ended with Mike Newton being stirred awake by Angela. He simply smiled tiredly while wiping drool off his chin.

_Bleh._

Angela and I walked out of the classroom only to head for the next class and I found that I was starting to recognize the hallways and the corners better than I had two days ago. While walking, I was in the middle of describing the benefits of having an old truck because I couldn't stand listening to Angela tease my choice of vehicle anymore when she not-so-subtly nudged my side like she had yesterday and leaned in. I knew what she was going to say before the words had left her mouth.

"Look, there he is,"

I turned my head in the direction of her gaze and saw the tall form of our Gym teacher up close for the very first time. The person in question was standing in the middle of the hallway, as if having been stopped on his way to his destination, entertaining two Senior girls with small talk. They twirled locks of their fake blonde hair between their fingers as they clung to every sentence escaping his mouth and he humored them with a devastatingly handsome grin. I let my eyes wander over the mop of unruly, tousled brown hair, travelling down to the jaw line I had noticed yesterday when he'd walked across the parking lot. Resting on his slim shoulders was a black, leather jacket with droplets of rain clinging to it and trailing down the material before splashing down on a spot by his feet. I drew two conclusions from this sight: one – he'd just arrived and was wasting his precious time as well as Charlie's tax money on talking up a couple of schoolgirls, and two – it was still raining outside. His laughter, merry and smooth, echoed off the walls, casting the sound to where Angela and I stood. Several heads turned in his direction and suddenly Jessica and Lauren were by his side as well, Jessica's curls nearly shielding his face from my view. As I stood the, staring at my future Gym teacher, I had to admit that all the attention directed towards this man was well earned – at least where his looks were concerned. Coach Cullen was handsome, young and from what I could tell, lean and muscular; wearing his sex-hair with a crooked – but also cocky – grin. Thick, appreciable eyebrows rested over gleaming eyes, his skin pale but the color actually suitable on him. Faded jeans clung to his slender hips and were just low enough for one to wonder what rested beneath the waistline. I blushed as I realized where my thoughts were heading, and once I turned back to Angela she gave me a knowing smile.

"Told you so," she quipped.

"Fine, he's nice to look at," I admitted before walking alongside her once again, heading for English Literature this time.

"He's got a great personality as well," she said.

I shrugged, "I wouldn't know,"

"Yet," came the reply.

The English teacher droned on for what seemed like forever about a book report we had coming up. Of course I'd already read the book back in Phoenix and knew it by heart so it wouldn't be too much of a challenge for me. I neglected to voice this information out loud though, because if the teacher found out I was sure she'd manage to come up with something other for me to do. All in all, I was happy with the assignment. Angela, on the other hand, wasn't. The torture came to an abrupt halt two hour later when the bell rang and the poor woman didn't even get the change to finish her sentence as the students all but ran from the room.

"Can you believe her?" Angela hissed indignantly under her breath as we made our way for lunch. I was pulled out of my depressing thoughts, having just realized we probably had to spend the next 30 minutes at Mike's table, a prospect I was not looking forward to.

"It's not that bad," I assured her, "I'll help you, I already did this one back in Phoenix,"

"Really?" She perked up.

"Really. Can't we find our own table today?"

Angela snickered, "Mike wouldn't like that,"

"I don't care, I really don't want to sit with him and his friends today. Or Lauren. Or Jessica," I whined.

Angela stole a sideways glance at me, "Ok,"

"Yeah?"

"Yes," she agreed.

"Arizona!" A male voice suddenly called from behind as we entered the double doors. Not two seconds later, a muscular arm rested on my shoulders, guiding me towards the table I had been trying to avoid. To my surprise, Angela hooked her arm with mine, tugging me in the opposite direction.

"Not today Mike," she said as the blonde boy sent her an incredulous look, losing his hold on me.

"Why the hell not?" He exclaimed unhappily.

"We've got a project to talk about. There is simply too much noise over there," she lied effortlessly, motioning in the direction of his usual spot.

He nodded hastily in understanding, "I'll join you,"

I rolled my eyes, "Really, that's not necessary,"

"It's no problem," he beamed in reply.

And so we ended up sitting in a secluded area of the school's cafeteria. All three of us. I tried to ignore the disdainful looks we received from Lauren and Jessica once they spotted us, situated as far away from them as possible. This had not been a good idea.

We didn't have to keep up the pretence of working on a project as Mike chatted amiably about nothing in particular, not allowing Angela or me to get a word in. I simply chose to eat my lunch in silence, leaving it up to her to insert the proper "hmmm's" and "aaaah's" whenever Mike would take a break long enough for her to reply. I really couldn't care less about whatever it was he was babbling about and it was against my nature to feign interest just to be polite, especially when he'd been getting on my nerves as much as he had ever since I started attending Forks High. Mike didn't seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm, even though it was quite clear that his monologue was directed at me by the way he kept his eyes focused on my face. The bell rang, signaling that lunch was over and it was time to face reality once more. A very dreaded reality on my part – next class was gym, and knowing that I was sure to injure myself again one way or another, it was with a heavy heart that I picked up my schoolbag and walked out of the cafeteria. Angela sent me a knowing look and what I assumed was supposed to be an encouraging smile, but the prospect of spending the next couple of hours with Coach Cullen made her practically glow. Looking around, I noticed to my dismay that all my fellow female classmates wore the same ridiculous smile and I inwardly scoffed at how pathetic they were. Except for Angela of course; I found her giddiness endearing if nothing else.

The locker room buzzed with animated chatter and girlish giggles as the girls fought for a position in front of the mirror like last time, leaving Angela and I to get ready in peace. Jessica brought the hairspray with her again, and I ducked away from the chemical cloud that floated in the hair around her. Lauren was in the middle of coating her lips with yet another layer of lipgloss when our eyes connected in the reflection of the mirror and she turned around to face me.

"What is that?" She grimaced, pointing to my still form and gesturing up and down with her hand. I timidly lowered my gaze and looked down myself, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"I'm not sure what you mean?" I frowned.

"Those rags you're wearing. You're not seriously going to work out in _that?_" Lauren snickered evilly, tossing her long, shiny hair over her shoulders and smacking her lips.

"There's nothing wrong with her outfit. It's comfortable," Angela piped up, wearing close to the exact thing as me – baggy sweats. The difference was that where my upper body was covered in a huge washed out t-shirt; she was wearing a tight singlet. I admitted I looked a little shabby standing next to her – and the rest of the girls in the locker room as they eyed my clothes disdainfully. I huffed.

"It's only gym, not a beauty contest,"

Lauren raised an eyebrow at my statement and shrugged, "If you say so,"

"You know," I snapped, the ridiculous situation finally getting on my nerves, "it's absolutely pathetic to dress up for a teacher,"

Some of the girls laughed and rolled their eyes at this, one of them letting out a small mutter, "So clueless,"

Jessica tsk'd, finally setting the awful hairspray down, "Oh Bella. Have you even _seen_ the Coach yet?"

"I have," I told her, my chin raised high.

"And you don't think he's absolutely gorgeous?" Another girl asked, whom I recalled was named Lucy.

"He's good looking, I'll admit," I shrugged.

"He's perfect," Jessica sighed wistfully.

"Oh come on!" I scoffed, "He's a teacher for God's sake, and off limits to all of you,"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Lauren said, seeming to know something I didn't. I simply rolled my eyes at her, dismissing her comment and leaving the room. They continued their brainless chatter the instant I turned my back on them.

Out in the gym hall, the guys were already waiting for class to start.

"Arizona, over here!" Mike called and I trudged my way over to him, glad for the distraction. I was silently fuming over the girls' obliviousness as they all but offered themselves to this teacher like dogs in heat. My respect for them was long since gone.

"What's crawled up your butt?" Tyler asked as he took in my red face.

"Ugh!" I exclaimed, motioning behind me, "they're pathetic!"

Some of the guys snickered and nodded in agreement.

"Finally!" Mike laughed as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, "Someone with a functional brain. I was worried you'd end up like them once you laid eyes on this 'Oh so fabulous teacher' of ours,"

"Nope. Not me," I refused.

"Good girl," Tyler winked.

I decided that was my cue to keep my mouth shut.

The rest of the class soon filed through the locker room doors and into the hall, the girls and boys mingling to chat with one another. There was an abrupt silence however as the door to the Coach's office opened and the man in question stepped out. He was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to his slender frame, showing off the lean muscles that defined his chest as the material stretched over his skin. His legs were bare, a red shorts stopping just above his knees and I couldn't help but take in the sight of them as he jogged towards us.

_Damn he's hot._

His smirk made my eyebrow raise in question as he greeted the girls.

_Clearly leading them on._

They shouted greeting in unison, before Jessica boldly took a step forward and smiled at him.

"We missed you on Monday," she purred, pulling at her hair as she gazed up at him.

The Coach's smile faltered for a minute before it came back in full force.

"I was out of town," he explained.

"Oh. Business or pleasure?" Jessica asked.

His grin widened, "Definitely pleasure, Miss Stanley,"

My mouth fell open as I caught drift of the underlying meaning to his words. And then he winked.

_Actually winked_.

Jessica blushed modestly as she practically beamed up at him.

"Now I hear we have a new addition today?" He suddenly said, averting his eyes from Jessica's lustful gaze and letting them travel over the crowd. I huffed and stepped forward, raising my hand to call for his attention.

"I guess that would be me,"

The Coach tilted his head slightly to the side as he finally noticed me, shamelessly studying my face and body.

_Was this guy for real?_

My irritation grew noticeably at his obvious staring and I cleared my throat, willing his eyes to meet mine. They finally did and the amusement I saw in them made my blood boil indignantly.

"Miss Swan I presume?" He said in that velvet voice of his, stepping forward to greet me.

"Yes," I nodded curtly, shaking his hand. His skin was rough but pleasant all the same, and my arm suddenly tingled at the contact. I quickly withdrew my hand from his and stared accusingly at him, as if he was responsible for the weird tingling sensation. He frowned at my hostile behavior but didn't comment on it.

"Welcome to Forks High," he said.

"Thanks," I said, trying to smile. It turned into a weird grimace instead.

"Ok," he muttered, raking a hand through his mop of unruly hair before turning around to face the rest of the class.

"Nice Bella," Angela sighed tersely next to me.

"Oh shut up," I rolled my eyes.

"Basketball!" He called and everyone erupted into cheers. Everyone except for me, of course.

"Two teams, two team captains to pick out their players,"

His studied his students in silence for a minute and then a mischievous grin appeared on his flawless face, "Mr. Newton, Miss Swan – you'll be captains,"

I inwardly groaned.

_Please let me survive this torture._

"Bella!" Mike shouted instantly, beaming proudly at his choice.

"Uh, Mike?" Angela said carefully, "You can't pick the other team's captain,"

His smile fell.

"Oh, right…. Well… Jessica, then,"

Jessica stepped forward to join him, sending me a murderous glare as she passed me.

It was my turn to choose someone, and my mind went blank.

"Mr. Cullen?" I asked.

Angela turned to me with an incredulous look on her face, "And you Bella, can't pick the teacher,"

I blushed, "I wasn't going to!"

"What is it Miss Swan?" Coach Cullen drawled.

"I don't even know half of the names yet," I pointed out.

His eyebrows shot up at this, "Oh! No of course… Well, Tyler, you'll be team captain instead, then,"

"Bella!" Tyler smirked and I sighed deeply as I went to stand behind him. This was torture. The Coach didn't say anything, but shot me another amused glance. I grimaced at all the attention I suddenly was receiving but chose to keep my mouth shut about it. No need to cause a scene. It wasn't long before the team's captain stood with their backs to one another, with Mr. Cullen holding the basket ball high in the hair next to them.

"Be nice to each other now," he warned and tossed the ball, signaling the beginning of the game.

I was rooted to the spot for a moment as my fellow classmates began shouting orders at one another. Tyler was currently dribbling the ball and I ran after him on his way to the basket.

"Lauren, catch!" He called and sent the ball flying. Lauren caught it with ease. And then she spotted me.

Lauren's face turned into a devious smirk and she threw the ball – _hard,_ "Bella!"

I was too close, the ball's position was too low and the speed at which it was coming towards me was simply way too fast. With a guttural "Ugh!" I doubled forward, the ball rolling uselessly to the sideline. It had hit me right in the guts.

"Shit!" Mike exclaimed, running forward and approaching my hunched form, "That must've hurt like hell. Are you Ok?" He asked worriedly.

I wished he wouldn't make such a big deal about it, but as I looked up I noticed that the whole class' eyes were on me.

"No harm done," I groaned.

"Miss Swan?" Came a smooth voice.

"I'm fine Coach,"

"Jeez can you be anymore pathetic? It was a simple catch!" Lauren mocked.

"Miss Mallory, that's quite enough," the Coach said firmly.

I straightened up, blinking away treacherous tears. Mr. Cullen was approaching me but I impatiently waved both him and Mike away.

"Nothing hurt but my pride," I huffed.

The Coach stopped mid-step, "You sure?"

"I'm sure," I said, trying to smile.

He still didn't look convinced but allowed the game to resume.

Fine minutes later, I was sitting flat on my butt, clutching my forehead.

"Fuck!" I hissed.

"Oh my freaking God," Lauren muttered irritably, bouncing the ball in her hands and looking innocently at the Coach.

"It's not my fault she can't catch the damn ball," she said.

"Miss Swan?" Coach Cullen asked worriedly.

"All right! I'm all right!" I sighed, clutching my eyes shut against the throbbing pain in my head. I got up on shaky legs and looked around. Everyone was staring at me. Again.

"Do you want to sit down for a couple of minutes?" The Coach asked, looking apprehensive as though he was silently hoping I would take him up on his offer.

"No thanks, I'm fine," I dismissed, resuming my earlier position.

The Coach signaled for the game to start once again.

Not even ten mutes after he'd blown the whistle hanging around his neck; I was ducking my head and covering my nose with a trembling hand.

"Shit!"

"You've got to be kidding me," Tyler said deadpanned. He tentatively helped me to my feet, trying to examine my nose. Jessica had launched the death trap of a ball straight at my face.

"Jeez Miss Swan. Are you Ok?" I heard the velvet voice ask and this time there was nothing I could say or do to prevent him from escorting me towards the bleachers. He gently pushed me down and crouched down in front of me, forcing my hands away. I nearly fainted when I spotted the deep, red liquid coating my shirt and hands.

"Fuck!" He cursed. He stood up and turned towards the rest of the class, who was staring at me in silence.

"Class dismissed," he simply called. No one said a word as they walked towards their respective locker rooms.

"Come here,"

I felt a gentle tugging on my arm and reluctantly stood up, my head dipped downwards as I tried not to choke on all the red. A strong, muscular arm wrapped around my waist pushed me across the hall, towards the door that lead into the Coach's office. Once inside, he hastily plucked away some sheets of papers from a chair and placed me in it, then going to a large, wooden closed situated by one of the walls. I sat there, patiently waiting, willing myself not to faint. My nose hurt like hell and when the Coach pried my fingers away from my face I visibly flinched away from the contact.

"It's Ok," he soothed, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he placed a medical kit on the desk situated in front of me, probably having pulled it from the closet. He wetted a cotton ball with something transparent that looked a lot like water but smelled like shit before placing it carefully on my already swollen nose. Then strong fingers came up to investigate, pushing and prodding.

"No fractures," he muttered in relief.

Whatever the cotton ball was soaked with, it stung and made my eyes water. I tried to be brave, not uttering a single word as he wiped blood off of my face. After several minutes of silence, his eyes – which I now noticed were a deep green – connected with mine.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?"

I remembered the turbulent and humiliating gym class I'd just gone through and rolled my eyes, "My pride could use some mending,"

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, "As long as you're Ok physically. I must admit, I've never seen anything quite like that,"

"You've never nursed a wounded student before?" I asked.

"Of course I have. But I've never seen someone as eager on getting attacked by a basketball as you. You'd think that thing had a personal vendetta against you, or something,"

"That wouldn't be far from the truth. Any object, round or sharp, hates me," I admitted shyly.

"So you get hurt a lot then?" He frowned.

"Mostly I just fall down,"

This earned me a humored chuckle, "Seems like my classes will get more interesting from now on,"

"Seems like it. I'm so glad you find my clumsiness funny," I snorted bashfully, winching as the motion made my nose sting.

"I can't be picky. This is a small town after all," Coach Cullen joked.

I was surprised how easy it was talking to him, out banter flowing freely back and forth between the two of as he cleaned my face. He made sure to wipe a fallen tear away too, and the gesture seemed oddly intimate. That's when I remembered that this Godlike creature crouching in front of me was a teacher, and that we were borderline flirting. I mentally slapped myself. Noticing my distressed expression, the Coach narrowed his eyes at me.

"Does it hurt,"

"A little," I nodded, which wasn't a complete lie.

"Here, I've got something for you," he rose from his position and walked over to what looked like a mini-fridge standing in one of the corners. He pulled out an icepack from it and handed it to me. I gratefully accepted it.

"Wait," he said. Pulling out a small plaster, he placed it on my nose. I guess the rough texture of the ball had penetrated my skin. With that done, I placed the icepack on my nose, sighing contently as the cool caressed my tender flesh.

"Better?" He asked.

"Much,"

My gaze drifted to his, "Thank you,"

He grinned, "Anything for a student. And a new one at that. I hope your last gym class didn't end as catastrophically as this one,"

"Nope," I said, popping the "p", "last time I twisted my ankle. I _walked it off_,"

Mr. Cullen grimaced, "Mrs. Geoff?"

"Yeah,"

He shook his head, "I hate that woman,"

"As do I," I chuckled, making him laugh in return.

Five minutes later we were standing outside of his office, me still clutching the icepack to my nose.

"Have a… safe day, Miss Swan," Mr. Cullen said as he locked the door, casting a sly glance my way. I rolled my eyes, "I'll do my best,"

And with that I crossed the hall and entered the now empty locker room. I was a bit surprised that the Angela had been right once again – my gym teacher was really nice looking, but he actually did have a pretty decent personality as well. I just wish he hadn't, because gym classes would be so much worse from now on.


	5. Port Angeles

**A/N: **Thank you so muvh for your support! I have replied to you reviews and I promised a new chapter today. So, here it is! This one is dedicated to my lovely friend Lizzy who keeps pushing for spoilers and updates. You really make writing this so much fun. I hope you all like this, it's my own favorite so far.

**Chapter 5 – Port Angeles**

"Have you settled in at school well?"

"Yeah, pretty much,"

"Are the other kids being nice to you?"

"Yep,"

"Are you behind on schoolwork?"

"Not at all,"

That was how far the dinner conversation between Charlie and I went. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, with the exception of him praising my cooking kills. I smiled in thanks and nodded politely, nibbling at a piece of loaf while he shoveled down pot roast. My plate was left nearly untouched. It was Friday afternoon and I had just realized that ever since coming to Forks my appetite had been nearly non-existent. One week had gone by in a blur and I was looking forward to the school-less weekend that lay ahead of me. Angela and I were going to Port Angeles tomorrow because she needed to get some shopping done. I just needed to get out of Forks. The green was making my eyes itch and I was wondering if maybe I wasn't having an allergic reaction to this whole town. Nights were spent drifting in and out of uneasy slumbers, my mother's childish smile always lurking beneath the surface of my eyelids whenever I closed them. I was utterly, totally, incurably homesick. I missed the burning sun that forced my eyes to squint in protest whenever I went outside. I missed the cactuses that littered the edge of out barely existent garden, only kept alive because I made sure it stayed put. I even missed the sunburns that made the nights unbearably warm as sweat rolled off of me in waves. These things were home to me, and I wouldn't replace them for anything in the world. Except that I had. And it was all I could to to keep my tears at bay as I tried to keep a light conversation with my dad at the dinner table during the long, rainy afternoons – much like this one. I did the dishes once we were done and I heard the telltale sound of the remote being removed from the coffee table in the living room before the TV came to life. Another game was on – when weren't there a game that Charlie wanted to see – and I lazily dried plates while listening to the homey sounds surrounding me. I should be happy. Charlie deserved as much. But still, I couldn't bring myself to smile genuinely – not even for him. I was afraid that by the end of the school year, I would've withered with each fall of the raindrops landing on the concrete outside, nothing left of me but a shell of the girl I once used to be. My spirits were really that low. I was looking forward to spend some time with Angela tomorrow though, and we'd both agreed upon her picking me up, deciding to take her Jeep instead of my old Chevy. Truthfully, I didn't think the truck would manage the hour long drive. But even this could bring a proper smile to my face. I was dissatisfied for sure. Worst part? Renee hadn't even bothered to contact me.

I sighed as I toweled my hands and picked up my schoolbag in the hall where I'd carelessly disposed myself of it a couple of hours previous. I ascended the stairs slowly, sighing heavily as I reached the top and walked the short distance to my bedroom. My only sanctuary. It looked livable now and I was happy with the color choices I'd made. Purple bedding, deep, blue curtains that matched the light blue walls. It turned out really nice. On the walls hung pictures however, and they immediately dampened my spirits once more. They were taken back in Phoenix and only reminded me of what I'd left behind. Home. That's what I'd left. Home and Renee.

***

Angela picked me up at 11 AM sharp the following morning. I wasn't nearly as rested as I would like. I blamed the rain for that – as usual. She looked refreshed and eager to get going once I fastened my seatbelt, resting my head back on the headrest next to her. She frowned once she took in my droopy eyes.

"It's the weather," I sighed, "It's too windy and rainy and… noisy for me to get some decent sleep,"

Angela smiled at that, "Most newcomers feel the same way. You'll get used to it. It helps listening to music, that what I do when the weather is bad,"

"But it's bad every single day," I pointed out.

"Not necessarily," she said, staring out the windshield of the car and up at the thin layer of clouds on the sky, "maybe we'll get lucky today,"

I scoffed, "Yeah, maybe,"

She maneuvered the car out of the driveway, waving to Charlie as she spotted him looking at us from the front porch. Everyone knew everyone in this town.

"I like your dad. He's good pals with my dad," she said, confirming my thoughts.

"Charlie is nice," I nodded.

"You call him Charlie?" She asked curiously, peeking sideways at me before concentrating on the road stretching in front of us once more.

"We've never really been that close," I shrugged, knowing that Angela wouldn't spread around whatever I said to her, "of course, that's a piss poor excuse, because I'm close to my mom but I always call her Renee," I realized.

"Some people just like to call their parents by their name," Angela reasoned.

"Yeah, I guess. You don't though?"

"No, not really. I mean, I thought my mom's name was actually Mom until I was ten," she giggled. I laughed with her.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" I asked.

"Well I need a lighter jacket than this one," she said, pointing to the deep brown coat she was wearing, "and I was thinking we could stop by a dress store? There's this dance –"

I cut her off mid-sentence with a groan, "Not the D-word,"

She looked incredulously at me, "You don't like dances?"

I hoisted my shoulders up and sighed, "You've seen me in gym,"

She gave me a knowing smile, "Oh well. I heard Mike is planning on asking you,"

This made me groan again, which in turn made her laugh, "He's really not that bad Bella,"

"And who are you hoping will ask you? The Gym Coach?" I teased.

Angela blushed and stared at the road, "Not funny, Swan," and then she cast me a sly glance, "how about you? You did get to spend some quality time with him yesterday,"

It was my turn to bluish, "Shut up," I grumbled.

"Struck a nerve, did I?"

"Not at all," I denied.

"Sure,"

"He's nice, I guess. You were right. But it still pathetic how the girls lust after him,"

Angela nodded her head in agreement, "I can't say I disagree. You don't think I'm that bad, do you?" She suddenly asked mortified.

"No, not at all," I answered honestly.

"Good,"

"You didn't answer my question though," I reminded her, "who do you want to take you to the dance?"

Angela grew silent for a moment.

"Don't tell anyone, kay?" She finally said.

"Who would I tell? Jessica? Lauren?" I snickered.

"Something like that," she answered, worrying her bottom lip. Another quality that we shared.

"I promise I won't tell anyone. Scout's honor," I said teasingly.

"You know Ben Cheney?" She asked timidly.

I pondered this for a moment. Did I? Suddenly, I remembered.

"The short guy in my Spanish class?" I wondered out loud.

"Yeah," Angela sighed dreamily.

"He's nice looking," I offered.

"I know, right? I don't really know him, though," She said hesitantly.

"Then why don't you ask him?" I urged.

"I can't do that!" She answered appalled.

"It's the 21st century Angela, not the Middle Age. Of course you can,"

"I'll just wait and see," she offered half-heartedly. I didn't push any further, knowing that if it was me in her situation, I wouldn't have had the guts to ask Ben Cheney either – or any guy for that matter.

We arrived in Port Angeles a short hour later, the drive spent with us getting to know each other a little better. The sun was actually about to creep through the clouds when we parked and I drew a lungful of air once I got out of the car.

"Dress store?" Angela asked. I grimaced.

"Fine,"

We made our way across the parking lot and onto the pavement, where people were walking hastily to their destinations. I had to push through the crowds on some occasions, reminding me of the busy city life back in Phoenix. Angela kept by my side, a little more hesitant as I maneuvered my way through bodies, showing clearly that she wasn't used to big crowds. She was a small town girl after all. We found the dress shop Angela had been talking about quite easily and I begrudgingly followed her inside the small space. Everywhere I looked, fashionable festive dresses greeted me in various colors, and Angela soon had a pile of different fabrics in her hands.

"You should try on some too – just in case," she pleaded, and I was too weak to refuse, even though I hated fitting rooms and the claustrophobic environment they provided. I chose to try on a dark blue one, with thin spaghetti straps that crossed each other in the back. The material was shiny, sateen-like and reached just above my knees. My cleavage was none-existent I realized as I studied myself in the mirror, which suited me well. I never liked showing off anyway. Angela tsk'd when she saw me though.

"It's really nice Bella, and suits you well, but you'll need a push-up bra to go with that," she stated shamelessly. My mouth hung open as I watched her retreating back before she disappeared behind the curtains to her own fitting room.

I ended up buying the damned dress, after much nagging from my new friend. And then we had to go to a lingerie store to by the bra to go under it. When that was over and done with, after much humiliation on my part, I talked her into visiting the city's largest book store. Of course she was easily swayed because Angela loved books as much as I did. The bell situated over the door chimed merrily when we stepped over the threshold and I drew in the breath of new, fresh books.

_Divine._

I was more of a classics fan, while Angela insisted to investigate the crime section, so we went our separate ways. It wasn't long before I held a brand new copy of _Emma_ in my hands, stroking the pages lovingly as I turned them. It was cheap, and I decided that – after having spent nearly two hours doing Angela's thing – I'd treat myself with this one. Making up my mind, I swiftly turned around and rounded the shelf I'd been standing by, walking straight into someone tall and muscular. With a muffled thud I landed on my butt on the floor, letting out and embarrassing groan at the impact.

"Shit, sorry!" A voice I vaguely recognized hissed worriedly and my gaze lifted to meet that of none other than my gym teacher.

"Miss Swan?" He asked quizzically as he crouched down in front of me – which clearly had become a habit of his.

"Hey," I muttered sheepishly, my face flushing a deep shade of red.

_How humiliating. Not only do I manage to injure myself in gym, but I actually manage to fall down in front of him on his free time as well. _

He chuckled, the sound deep and amused, "We've got to stop meeting like this," he said, offering me a hand.

I silently took it, suppressing a shudder in the process as the tingling sensation came back in full force upon contact with his warm skin.

"Sorry about that," I said sheepishly.

"Not your fault. I wasn't watching where I was going," he replied apologetically.

I met his eyes and smiled timidly, wondering what on earth I was supposed to say to him now that we were outside of school.

"So uhm," he raked a hand through his hair and smiled, "you're a fan of classics?"

I instantly perked and held up the book in front of me, "Definitely,"

He nodded, "Me too. I come here often, they've got a decent variety of books here,"

"Oh. Well, this is my first time here. I'm here with Angela Weber," I explained.

"So you've gotten yourself some friends. That's good," he nodded in approval.

"I'm usually socially retarded that way, but people are really nice here. I mean, in Forks," I said, remembering that we were in Port Angeles now. And then I nearly smacked my head as my own words registered in my mind. Why on earth did I say something so…. Well, _retarted?_

Mr. Cullen just laughed out loud, "You're a blunt one, aren't you?"

_Usually? No. _

"Uhm," I frowned, "Maybe? I guess? No?"

This made him laugh more, "I get the impression that you are,"

"So, classics? I'm surprised, I would've thought I'd find you in the Sports section or something," I quickly said, needing a change of subject.

He shrugged, and I noticed that he was wearing his leather jacket again.

_Yum._

"That's about right, but I can enjoy decent literature as well," he winked.

_Ah. And Mr. Flirty is back._

"Huh. So why didn't you end up being an English teacher then?" I wondered.

"Because books are passion, and teaching is not," he replied easily.

"You don't enjoy teaching?" I asked quizzically.

"I do. But it's not something I'll spend the rest of my life doing," he shrugged and I wondered why I was prying into his personal life like this. It wasn't proper, but then again, Coach Cullen made me feel strangely at ease.

"What about you?" He suddenly asked, casually leaning his form on the bookcase next to him.

"Me?"

"Are books your passion?"

I blushed as that last word escaped his lips. It sounded so intimate coming from him.

"I guess. I don't know what I'll end up doing yet, but if I could spend the rest of my life reading that would be an option,"

"Ah, if things could be that easy," he smiled.

I rolled my eyes, "Or maybe I'll be a teacher. Teaching requires books," I pointed out.

"But teaching is stressful and you have hardly any free time," he argued.

"I'm suspecting you rather hate your job," I frowned.

"I don't," he said hastily, "I really like working with… kids,"

I nearly flinched, "Gee, that's an ego boost,"

He laughed merrily again, "You're feisty,"

And just like that, my good mood was instantly wiped away. Those words reminded me of Jacob Black, and he was not a person I liked thinking about.

"Look, Angela is probably waiting for me somewhere," I said awkwardly.

He instantly straightened up and his smile faltered, "Of course,"

"I guess I'll see you in class on Monday," I muttered shyly.

"Yes. Have a nice weekend Miss Swan," he nodded all business like, all the earlier carelessness gone.

"Bye," I said and skipped around him, heading for the front of the bookstore. He didn't reply.

Angela was waiting for me and together we paid for our books and made our way out of the store. She kept casting me curious glances as we walked down the pavement on our way to her Jeep but I offered no explanation to my silent mood. Once we were inside the crammed space of the car, she sighed.

"I saw you two,"

I immediately stiffened in my seat, "Saw what?"

"Oh don't play innocent. You and the Coach, talking. I would've sad hi to him, but you looked pretty engrossed in your conversation,"

I sighed, "We bumped into each other by accident. I fell,"

She grimaced sympathetically, "Ouch,"

"I keep humiliating myself everywhere I go," I groaned.

"Is it humiliating because you keep falling down, or because you keep falling down in front of _him?_" She asked wisely.

I decided to be honest, "Both,"

Angela smiled, "There's no wrong in crushing on your teacher Bella. God knows it doesn't make you anymore different than the rest of us,"

I huffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest, "Pathetic,"

"If you say so," she replied in a sing-song voice and started the engine. We drove slowly through the streets of Port Angeles, watching as people walked by.

"You hungry?" She suddenly asked. As if on cue, my stomach growled loudly and she snickered.

"Obviously," I laughed.

"Let's get something to eat," she suggested, pointing towards a small, Italian restaurant.

"I'm in," I agreed gladly.

We found a vacant spot and parked the car. The nearly-there-sun was beginning to set in the horizon and I pulled my jacked closer around my shivering form.

"It's so cold here," I said, pointing out the obvious.

"It usually is this time of year. You better get used to it," Angela said, reaching for the door and pushing it open. The warmth that greeted us made my tense muscles relax and we were quickly lead towards a table by a very helpful waiter. He smiled at us, his eyes lingering for a tad bit too long on Angela before handing each of us a menu. I pulled off my jacked and sat down, inspecting the menu closely.

"This looks nice," I commented pleasantly.

"It's a nice restaurant. We do have those, you know," Angela quirked and eyebrow at me. I just scoffed playfully in reply. The waiter came back after a few minutes and we both placed out orders. He set a couple of Cokes down in front of us and smiled, making me blush at his blatant gaze. Angela waved him off however.

"He likes you," she commented.

"Huh. I haven't even said two words to him," I muttered dismissively.

"I mean the Coach, silly," she giggled, leaning over the table on her arms eagerly.

"Angela," I warned.

"He does. Did you not notice how he was smiling at you back there? And how he dismissed the entire class yesterday even though we had an hour left of gym?"

"I was hurt!" I defended.

"Oh Bella, you're even more unobservant than I feared," she sighed, taking a sip of her Coke.

"This conversation is ending now," I said with finality.

She merely shrugged.

It was then that the door opened again, bringing forth a gust of wind that made me shudder. My head snapped in annoyance before my whole body went rigid. Sensing my sudden change in mood, Angela turned in her seat.

"Oh," she gasped.

And there he was, yet again, standing in the doorway of the restaurant in all of his devastating glory. Mr. Freaking Cullen.

But he was not the one to hold our attention this time however. Next to him was someone I had never seen before, but who made my eyes go wide in astonishment. She was beautiful, tall and gorgeously blonde, her outfit modest but clinging to her womanly curves in a fashionably way. And, of course, she was with _him._

"Table for two?" I heard that velvety voice request and I followed them with my eyes as they settled down at a table not far from us.

"Ok, you really need to stop staring," Angela hissed under her breath and I turned my head swiftly away, feeling the familiar burning sensation on my cheeks.

"She's beautiful," I commented to my Coke and took a long sip.

"Of course he's with someone like her," Angela's voice was dripping with suppressed jealously. I heard it, because I had noticed it in my own voice as I spoke.

"Of course," I agreed on a sigh, feeling strangely disappointed. I didn't really know why I felt that way, because it wasn't like I was pining after him like the rest of the girls in my class.

_Right?_

Our meals arrived shortly after that and I shot the waiter and appreciative smile as he covered the view of the couple sitting two tables down from us. He misunderstood my smile and smirked back, leaning on the table.

"Is there anything more I can get for you?" He asked suggestively, making me grimace subtly.

"No thanks," I said.

"Are you sure?" He asked, quirking his eyebrow like Angela had done earlier. It looked different on him, though.

"Quite sure," she suddenly said, loudly and sternly. He visibly flinched away from us. I blushed.

"Very well. Call if you need anything," he muttered, smiled half-heartedly, and disappeared.

I silently wished he hadn't because without him blocking the view my eyes were drawn towards the one place I didn't want to look. I jerked in surprise. My brown eyes met deep, green ones as Mr. Cullen stared at me, a hidden emotion laying just beyond the surface of his gaze – something incomprehensible to me.

I heard Angela's sharp intake of breath as she observed us and I quickly darted my eyes away and towards her.

"That was creepy," I said.

"That was _hot,_" she exclaimed in a whisper.

"Is he still looking?" I asked, my insecurities getting the better of me.

She subtly wiped at her face with a napkin, her eyes travelling across the room. I saw them pause at the spot in which I knew he sat before landing on me again.

"Yes,"

I gulped and looked down at the plate of lasagna in front of me. Suddenly, I'd lost my appetite.

"Eat," Angela ordered, digging into her own plate, feigning innocence as she grinned at me.

I groaned, "This doesn't mean anything,"

"This means everything," she insisted.

"Still looking?" I asked.

She did a quick turn of her head.

"No," she said, sounding disappointed.

I finally managed to relax enough to begin eating.

We didn't say much more as we ate in silence. Every now and then Angela's head would turn, and sometimes her eyes would glint with excitement as she conveyed a silent message to me.

_Looking._

Other times she frowned, and I got the meaning of that too.

_Not looking._

By the end of the meal I was downright exhausted by all of the tension and I quickly called for the waiters attention.

"Yes?" He beamed as he approached us.

"Check please?" I asked timidly.

His smile fell a little, "Of course,"

He returned a couple of minutes later with a notepad and laid it on the table in front of us. Angela insisted on paying, and frankly I was too tired to object. I figured I could pay the next time.

"Have a nice evening ladies," the waiter said as we shuffled to our feet and pulled on our jackets.

"You too,"

He handed me the recite and was gone before I managed to blink. Looking down at it, I noticed a phone number adorning the backside of the white surface and cringed.

"Pushy," Angela commented.

"Very much so,"

As we made our way towards the door, I couldn't help but steal a glance in the direction of the Coach and his mysterious woman. And, like before, his eyes met mine in a steady gaze. I quickly turned my head and walked through the door, ignoring the prickling sensation in my neck. Gym on Monday would certainly be interesting.

* * *

**A/N: **Don't forget to leave some love while you're here. Reviews make my day and your support mean a lot to me!


	6. Accusations

**A/N: **I'm impressed with you guys. You're all really nice and totally make writing this so much fun. This one is dedicated to all of you. I know it's a close update, but that can only be good, right? Anyways, drama heading your way. Enjoy and review!

**Chapter 6 – Accusations**

Was it weird that my heart was drumming loudly against my ribcage the moment I descended the stairs that led down to the girl's locker room? I mean, it _felt_ weird. It was like all of my senses were hyper aware of everything going on around me. The steel handle of the locker room door felt ice cold against my clammy hand as I pulled it open, and I rubbed the skin against my jeans once I was inside. The hair on my neck stood up and goose bumps erupted on my skin as I subtly stripped down and pulled on my usual gym outfit. My bottom lip was swollen and read from all the worrying I'd done by the time I entered the gym hall. And, once there, my breathing became shallower and my heart was ready to burst out of my chest. Something was definitely wrong with me this day.

It was Monday and the morning had gone by in a blur. A routine had begun to develop: get out of bed and tiptoe over the cold floor towards the bathroom for my usual morning shower, make breakfast for Charlie, head to school, meet up with Angela, go to class. There was nothing that should cause my words to stutter over each other as I teamed up with Mike to walk to gym, or my hands to tremble as I pulled on my tattered sweats in the locker room. Even now, as I stood there, pretending to listen as Mike chattered about some nonsense, I was strangely anxious. It felt as though the walls were closing in on me, even though the hall was big and spacious. Angela stood next to me, smirking for God knows what reason, giving me reassuring pats on my back. She was acting strangely too, I thought. And then the familiar creak signaled that a door was opening in the distance and the entire class shouted out greetings. I stared silently down at the floor, studying my worn sneakers and contemplating buying new ones.

"What's up Coach?" Tyler said loudly, clearly eager to get whatever game we were indulging in today started.

"I was thinking basketball," the telltale velvet voice replied and I grimaced at the floor.

"I'm sure you're just loving that," Angela snickered next to me.

I rolled my eyes and finally looked up, "Maybe he'll let me sit this one out?"

Mr. Cullen had overheard my comment.

"Not a chance,"

I bit my lip at this as I eyed him cautiously.

He was wearing the same shorts as last time, but instead of a black one, a white t-shirt was draped across his chest. I tried not to stare at it, or the muscles clearly lying beneath the thin material. Instead my eyes met his. They were the same sparkling green, but seemed oddly distant today and he quickly averted his gaze. This notion left me feeling strangely offended and sad. He clapped his hands and called for Lauren and Angela's attention. They were to be team captains today and I was glad when Angela instantly picked me first. After five minutes the two groups that had formed separated and faced each other. Angela and Lauren stood with their backs to one another, eager for the ball to drop. Eventually it did and the game begun.

I tried not to think of the godlike creature following the ball from the sideline as I ran up to the opposite team's goal along with my teammates. Tyler, whom Angela had also picked, scored two minutes into the game and was cheered on by the rest of us. Mike hastily snatched the ball then and I went to defend our basket. Seeing me, he ran towards my spot, clearly thinking it was a weak one. Tyler quickly covered for me. I was bewildered by this; it seemed more like he was defending me rather than the basket. I was grateful. Ten minutes later, I was still running about, injure-less. Of course Lauren had to go and ruin this. She was dribbling the ball, going for the basket and I didn't know what I was supposed to do: run up to her to try and snatch the deadly item or stay put. She made the choice for me by heading for me and nudging me hard in the shoulder. I fell. She scored. No one cheered.

"All right, Miss Swan?" Mr. Cullen called, already running across the hall and towards me. I got up on shaky feet and rubbed my shoulder tenderly.

"I'm Ok," I sighed dejectedly, seeing Lauren's sneer.

The Coach stopped hesitantly, eyeing me for a moment. Then he gave me a curt nod and went back to his previous position.

"It wasn't even that hard," Lauren suddenly hissed in my ear as she stopped next to me, "you're just being an attention-whore,"

And then she was off, running for the ball once again.

I stood rooted to the spot for a moment, shocked. Traitorous tears sprung to my eyes and I tried to blink them away. I was used to comments like that back in Phoenix, so I shouldn't have been as surprised as I currently was. But people had been so nice to me in Forks thus far I had nearly forgotten how much venomous comments like that hurt. I took a quick intake of breath and squared my shoulders.

_Toughen up, Swan._

Five minutes later, Angela passed the ball to me. And this time, I was ready. I tried to dribble the ball as carefully as possible. Before Lauren or her other teammates managed to get to me, I disposed myself of it in front of the basket, throwing it to Connor who was standing nearby. I wasn't dumb enough to try and score. He did, however, and the ball went through the ring easily. This time people were also cheering me on. It made me blush, but smile all the same. That was, until an elbow collided with my side and I was sitting on the floor. Again. Jessica smiled evilly down at me, taking a hasty step back.

"Can't you stay on your feet for more than five minutes?" Lucy asked me angrily. I huffed.

"Swan?" Came the velvet voice.

"Fine!" I snapped, standing up. I would not put up with this kind of treatment, especially not from someone as shallow and unworthy as Lauren and Jessica. They snickered as they passed me by, all flushed and excited from the game. I sent them an evil glare.

I stayed in the background for the rest of the game, not having enough nerve to do what my mind willed me to do: take the ball and throw it in Lauren's face. Hard. Instead I let myself being humored by the mental images that passed through my head. I decided a bloodied Lauren was enough to make the class bearable. After two hours, the Coach called on us and told us to head for the showers. Panting, I rested my hands on my knees, allowing Angela to laugh merrily at me.

"That went well… ish," she commented.

I straightened up, "As well as a gym class involving me could possibly go,"

"Now, now," Mr. Cullen suddenly tsk'd, walking up to us, "you were good out there Swan. Hardly any falls at all. And no injuries?"

"Nope," I grinned cheekily, silently proud of myself.

The Coach returned my smile before ushering us along. Before we entered the locker rooms however, I heard him tell Lauren to stay put. She did so obediently, practically glowing as she went to him. I sent her a murderous stare before walking through the doors and into the locker room.

***

All in all, the day went pretty Ok. I walked alongside Angela through the double doors that was the school's main entrance and out to the parking lot where students were mingling about eager to get home. When we reached my red truck we paused for a minute to talk more, leaving school related stuff out of our conversation. Angela wanted me to come to her house to hang out some day after school, to which I happily agreed. I really hadn't thought about how much I'd missed a friend until I met Angela when I moved to Forks. I'd had a few acquaintances back in Phoenix but no one I was really close to. I didn't tell Angela this, but opted to appreciate her company in silence. She was in the middle of describing her house and how to get to it from my place when Tyler approached us.

"You'll never guess what just happened," he said mischievously, an air of gossip surrounding him.

"What?" Angela asked, perplexed at his sudden appearance.

"Mr. Cullen gave Lauren a lecture back there. I overheard him when I went back into the hall to search for my hoodie," he grinned.

My eyebrows shot up at this, "What did she do to deserve that?"

And then his eyes settled on me and his smile grew wider, "He was upset with how she treated you in gym today – and last week. He asked her what she told you, you know, when she whispered in your ear earlier? You looked sad,"

I deadpanned. He'd actually noticed that? The Coach was more attentive towards his students than I'd thought. And then I promptly blushed. I never meant to cause trouble, which was why I'd decided against confronting Lauren earlier. Looks like trouble found me after all. Lauren would not be pleased.

"Wow," Angela said next to me, "I've never heard of him giving anyone a lecture before. I mean, he doesn't seem like the type to reprimand people like that,"

I scowled, "Maybe he never needed to before I came along,"

She instantly noticed my distressed look, "This is not your fault Bella. Lauren's a bitch and it's time someone put her in place,"

I shrugged helplessly.

"What did she say to you anyways?" Tyler suddenly asked worriedly.

"I can't even remember," I lied, "I'm sure I deserved it,"

"Bullshit," he scoffed.

"Agreed," Angela piped up.

There was a brief silence where they both stared at me while I shifted my weight from one foot to another uncomfortably.

"She called me an attention-whore," I admitted in defeat.

Their eyes widened.

"I always knew Lauren could be a bit offensive, but that's just plain mean," Tyler said.

"What a hag," Angela sneered.

I held up my hands to stop them, "Please, no harm done, Ok? Fine, she got what she deserved," I relented, "but there's no need to blow this out of proportion,"

Tyler shrugged, "Don't worry about it Bella. I won't tell anyone else,"

I smiled thankfully.

"Yeah, me neither. But just so you know, you shouldn't put up with something like this in the future," Angela scolded.

"I know," I sighed dejectedly, "maybe if I'm lucky I'll grow a backbone soon,"

"In the mean time, I've got your back," Tyler offered.

"Me too," Angela agreed.

I muttered thanks to both of them before climbing into my truck. It roared to life as usual, making people turn their heads in my direction. I rolled my eyes and backed out of the space I'd occupied for the day and drove out of the school's parking lot. It wasn't until I was out on the main road that I let my thoughts wander. It was all very confusing; this situation I found myself in, but one thing was for sure: Mr. Cullen had stood up for me when I had lacked the guts. And for that I was mildly irritated and extremely thankful. Irritated because I really ought to learn how to defend myself, and I didn't want him to go through the trouble of having to talk to Lauren about harassing me. But then again – the Coach was my teacher and it was his job to make sure that his students were happy. This thought actually managed to disappoint me a little, a small part of me wishing that he lectured Lauren because he actually _cared_. But that was silly, and I knew it. And, at the same time, I was thankful toward him. Because I really was out of my comfort zone when it came to standing up to a near total stranger and Lauren could be pretty intimidating if she wanted. Maybe now she'd back off a little. It hadn't escaped my notice that she was close by whenever I fell down in gym class. Until now, I had simply chosen not to dwell on it.

When I pulled up the driveway in front of Charlie's house and killed the engine, my head was full of pro's and con's this situation brought with it. The cruiser was nowhere to be seen so I hastily made my way up to the front door and unlocked it, deciding that making dinner would occupy my thoughts for the time being. When I opened the freezer, I noticed the fish Charlie had managed to catch last Wednesday and decided to make a meal out of that. It wasn't long before the butter was frizzling loudly in the pan and I heard the telltale sound of tires hitting gravel outside. A muted thud followed by the front door opening signaled that Charlie was home from work.

"Bells?" He called from the hallway.

"In the kitchen!"

He ducked his head inside and sniffed the air appreciatively.

"Fish?"

"Fried fish," I corrected merrily as I flipped the fish in the pan.

"Yum," he commented before throwing his jacket over a chair and sitting down. The table was already set.

I finished the dinner and piled fish, vegetables and potatoes on the plates, smirking when my dad instantly dug in.

"Amazing," he commented through mouthfuls, sending me an appreciative glance.

"It's only fish, dad. You did most of the job anyway, by catching them," I laughed.

He shrugged at this, not accepting my hidden compliment. I let it go, humored by his appetite. He took seconds, while I settled for one. After I'd cleaned the table and was about to do the dishes, the phone rang. Charlie, who'd opted to read the newspaper in the kitchen to keep me company instead of watching a game in the living room like he usually did, sighed heavily and got up from his seat. The phone was hanging on the wall in the hallway not far from where I was standing, but my hands were soaked with soapy water.

"Swan residence," he said gruffly. Then his eyes flickered to me.

"Yes, she's right here,"

Another silence, in which a frown started to form on his forehead.

"What?"

I peeked up from the kitchen counter, curious now.

"No, I've heard nothing of the matter," Charlie said quietly.

I worried my bottom lip, wondering what on earth could have Charlie seem so alarm as he was this very moment.

"Very well. Thank you for telling me, I'll make sure to bring your concerns to her attention,"

And with that, he handed the phone over to me with a carefully masked expression. It alarmed me.

"What?" I mouthed silently as I accepted it. Charlie said nothing though, just shook his head at me and walked out of the kitchen. I placed the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked timidly.

"Miss Swan," an all too familiar voice greeted me and I'm sure I visibly paled at the sound of it.

"Mr. Cullen?" I nearly screeched, surprised and shocked at the same time.

"I called to inform you that you're to attend a meeting with me and Miss Mallory tomorrow afternoon," he said. His voice was formal and business-like with an edge to it that made uncomfortable chills creep down my spine. He sounded nothing like usual laidback self.

"Why?" I blurted anxiously.

I could hear him sigh heavily on the other line, "Miss Mallory has voiced some complaints regarding your behavior towards her and I would like for the three of us to sit down and talk about it. I've also made your father aware of these complaints,"

I was silent for a minute, the dread rendering me speechless.

"Miss Swan, are you still there?" The velvet voice asked.

"I'm here," I whispered, "Mr. Cullen…"

"Yes?"

"What has Lauren said about me?" I asked, trying in vain not to sound as broken as I felt.

"That will have to wait until tomorrow Miss Swan," Mr. Cullen dismissed in a clipped tone. I could tell he was anxious for this conversation to be over.

"Ok," I said thickly, swallowing the thick lump in my throat, "until tomorrow, then,"

"Goodbye," He replied then before I heard the muted click of him hanging up. I placed the phone back on the wall and slowly made my way out of the kitchen, across the hall, and into the living room. Charlie was sitting in his usual chair, waiting for me.

"I was told not to say anything until you've had a chance to explain yourself to the Coach tomorrow," he muttered, nursing a beer as he looked up at me.

"Dad, I have no idea what's going on," I admitted in defeat, finally letting the stressful situation get to me. A silent tear slid down my cheeks as I gazed at him.

He sighed, "I honestly don't know what to believe, Bella, but the accusations are too troublesome to just let them pass,"

"Please tell me?" I begged.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"You've always been a nice girl. And from what I've heard, Renee has had no trouble with you,"

"It's true, she hasn't," I agreed quickly,

"I really hope that hasn't changed. I mean, I know moving here has been difficult for you, but God Bella…" Charlie trailed off miserably, raking a hand through his thick, brown hair.

"Nothing has changed," I clarified, "now tell me," I was starting to feel angry. Whatever Lauren Mallory had told Coach Cullen it was a blatant lie, of that I was sure.

"Miss Mallory says you've been harassing her since your first day at Forks High. That she has witnesses to prove for it, and that she's been taking her frustration out on you in gym class – which is why the Coach has asked to speak with both of you,"

I deadpanned at his words and the living room bathed in an eerie silence for a while as I gathered my thoughts.

"It's not true!" I exclaimed.

Charlie jumped and looked at me in alarm.

"Dad, you have to believe me. I wouldn't do something like that – ever," I was not as vile and pathetic as Lauren and I would never sink to such a level. Charlie had to know this – he _knew_ me, and I simply wasn't that kind of person.

After a moment, I saw his shoulders slump down as he exhaled, "There's more, Bella,"

I inhaled sharply, waiting for the blow I expected to come.

"Miss Mallory says you've gone about spreading rumors about her and Mr. Cullen. About them being romantically involved,"

"What?" I gasped.

"Is it true, or is it not, Isabella?" Charlie asked sternly.

"No!" I vehemently denied, "If anyone is spreading rumors regarding Lauren and the Coach it's her! She's head over heels with him, dad,"

"Saying that does not help your case much, Bella," he pointed out.

"Jeez," I muttered distressed as I began pacing back and forth in front of him.

"However," he continued, making me pause to look at him, "you're my daughter. And I trust you, Bella. But God forbid these accusations to be true,"

The silent warning in his tone shone through. I was his only child and he would stand by me, but was also giving me a chance now to come clean.

"I promise dad – Lauren Mallory is lying," I said honestly, my chin jutting out in defiance, "and I'll prove it, somehow,"

"Very well," he nodded in consent, "you will meet with them tomorrow and then come straight home. Then you will tell me everything that was said, and once I've called the Coach to confirm your words I will personally talk to Mr. Mallory to straighten this out,"

"Sounds like a plan to me," I nodded.

The TV was switched on a few minutes after that, and I glumly dragged my legs upstairs before plopping down onto the bed. My only consolation in all this was that Angela and Tyler knew the truth as well – or so I thought. I'd have to talk to them tomorrow. I hoped they'd take my word for it and believe me instead of Lauren Mallory.

***

"This is unbelievable. It's the worst thing she's ever done by far," Angela exclaimed hysterically, gripping at her light, brown hair in distress. Tyler stood by her side looking solemn, his hands tucked deep into his jeans pockets.

"It's a lie," I blurted out, needing them to understand.

The three of us were standing in front of Tyler's locker and I'd just told them about Mr. Cullen's phone call as well as my talk with Charlie last night. The accusations being thrown at me made my throat constrict and my eyes burn, depriving me of any possible sleep that night. It was the morning after that dreadful evening and I'd hunted down Angela before dragging her along to search for Tyler. And now here we were, looking glumly at one another.

"Of course it is!" Angela scoffed, as if any other possibility was out of question.

Tyler nodded in agreement, "I told you yesterday Bella – I've got your back. I believe you,"

"And she even has the guts to accuse _you_ for spreading those rumors," Angela seethed, seeming to ignore the conversation between Tyler and me, completely absorbed by her anger.

"I know," I sighed dejectedly, letting my eyes fall to the floor.

Tyler's hand came up to rub my shoulder comfortingly, "If that meeting doesn't end well, there are plenty of people who will plead your case. We'll tell him, Bella – Me, Angela, Mike, Ben, Eric – all of us. Ok?"

A silent tear fell from my eye and landed on the floor. I ducked my head even more.

"That bitch!" Angela seethed, seeing my distress. She quickly folded her arms around me and hugged me to her tightly.

"I'm fine," I croaked, looking up then and attempting a smile. Tyler shook his head miserably.

"Not even close," he muttered.

"And you shouldn't be. This is scandalous – it's so utterly disturbing it's not even funny," Angela continued to fume, babbling nonsense in the process.

I laughed half-heartedly at her and pulled away, "Calm down Angela. It's not like it's my virtue at stake here,"

"No but your reputation is," Tyler pointed out. My false smile instantly fell.

"Small towns and all," he shrugged apologetically.

It felt as though my heart froze inside my chest at his words. Of course there was truth to what he was saying. Nothing was more scandalous than the Chief of Police's daughter spreading rumors about a fellow student and a teacher having an affair. Add the harassment of said fellow student into the equation and we had a full blown scandal on our hands. The gossiping women of Forks would have a field day once this got out – and whenever Lauren was concerned, it was sure to get out eventually. I suddenly felt dizzy, my stomach churning disturbingly at the realization Tyler's words had brought forth.

"This can't be happening," I muttered distressed, running my hand through my tousled locks of mahogany hair. It hung lifeless over my shoulders – I hadn't even bothered to pull a brush through it this morning. My mind had been too occupied to worry about appearances.

"Come on," Angela suddenly urged, "we have a class to attend to,"

I nodded mutely before muttering a silent thanks and goodbye to Tyler. He smiled encouragingly at me before we parted ways. Angela steered me in the direction of Calculus, still spitting nonsense under her breath. I didn't have the energy to stop her, so I just let her fume in silence. Once there I instantly spotted Lauren sitting on the front row. Her face was smug as she leered at me. I had to put a calming hand on Angela's arm to prevent her from losing it completely. We sat down on the back row as usual and I tuned the teacher's voice out, figuring the upcoming event that was to take place at 3 PM was a good reason to be distracted. Angela took notes for the both of us, occasionally sending me worried looks over our joined desks. I smiled weakly in response but otherwise took no notice of anything else around me.

Spanish was interesting. I'd never talked to Ben Cheney up until that point, and I only knew him by name because of Angela's fascination with him. But, as I stepped over the threshold and into the classroom, he was suddenly at my side. He had the decency to introduce himself before he too began spluttering curses aimed at a certain blonde enemy of mine. It seemed as if Tyler had told him about the recent events.

"Mike is livid, of course," he said as we sat down next to each other, "and Eric as well. Even Connor, who's always kind of liked Lauren, thinks this situation is totally ridiculous,"

"They all take my word for it?" I asked surprised.

"Lauren is known for spewing lies whenever she can benefit from it," he explained matter-of-factly, "but this is low – even for her. Still, it reeks of her nonsense, we all support you,"

"Thank you," I muttered shyly, feeling strangely touched.

"No worries, Bella. We'll get you out of this mess," he nodded in assurance. And then the teacher prevented him from saying anything more as she called for attention.

Lunch went by in a similar fashion. Mike's table was now divided into two groups – pro-Lauren and pro-Bella. It was all very embarrassing. I noted with satisfaction that the only ones sitting by Lauren's side were Jessica and Lucy, along with a few other nameless blondes. The rest of the table was gathered around me, fishing for information about my phone conversation with Mr. Cullen. That was a bit unnerving. Still I really appreciated the support, and my spirits were lifted when I saw Angela and Ben talking to one another, discussing my "case". Well, at least he knew she existed now. The rest of the day went by in a blur. Soon, all of Forks High had heard of my dilemma. I was mostly left to myself, only conversing with Mike or Angela, but a there was suddenly an alarming amount of eyes settled on me as I walked down the hallways. It was like being new all over again.

The minutes ticked by and my dread soon consumed me. All too soon I was facing the stairs that led down to the gym. I'd told the others to not wait for me, but go home instead. Of course Angela refused, promising to wait for me in the parking lot. I was silently grateful. With a heavy heart I descended the stairs, readying myself for the onslaught of accusations I was sure to face. I hated Lauren Mallory more than ever.


	7. Confrontation

**A/N: **Squeee! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. You're all so kind. Now more drama heading you way, and we're finally getting somewhere in the Edward/Bella relationship. Enjoy!

**Chapter 7 – Confrontation**

The Coach's office was eerie silent except for the annoying ticking of a clock hanging on the wall. I was sitting in a chair, facing the desk, my gaze fixed on my hands resting in my lap. To my left sat Lauren, twirling a lock of her pale, blonde hair between her fingers, looking completely at ease. She didn't say anything either and I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. Behind the desk was the Coach, his green eyes piercing through my skin as he stared, a frown on his beautiful face. I was reluctant to look at him, but knew that my current posture just screamed "guilty" so with some effort I managed to lift my head and meet his gaze. When I did, I gulped heavily as his usually warm emerald orbs showed nothing but silent contemplation as he took me in. We'd been in here for a full five minutes, and still he had yet to speak up. I sighed heavily and worried my bottom lip, trying to keep my hands from trembling. Noticing my distress, the Coach leaned forward and finally opened his mouth.

"Are you aware of the accusations directed at you Miss Swan?" His smooth voice asked, devoid of any emotions.

"Yes," I croaked on a whisper before clearing my throat.

His eyes narrowed, "Miss Mallory has told me you've been harassing her ever since you came to this school,"

I vehemently shook my head, "It's not true,"

"She's also voiced some concerns about certain rumors regarding her and me,"

"I haven't been spreading any rumors Coach," I replied honestly.

His mouth closed and formed a thin, stern line as his eyes hardened, "Lying won't help your case Miss Swan,"

My heart dropped and I inhaled sharply, "Mr. Cullen. You have to believe me, I –"

"Miss Mallory," he cut me off, diverting his attention from me to Lauren for a moment, "you said you had witnesses of this harassment?"

"Yes," Lauren spoke boldly, "Jessica Stanley and Lucy Adams have both heard and seen Bella bully me,"

"Is that so?" He asked smoothly.

"No!" I exclaimed panicked.

"Miss Mallory is speaking Miss Swan," he barked shortly.

I visibly flinched back in my seat.

"They'll tell you everything if you ask them Coach," Lauren continued, as if there had been no interruption at all.

"Very well. I will meet with them as well," he said, "now tell me about the rumors,"

Lauren cast a sideways glance at me as she spoke, "Bella has been going around telling everyone we – as in you and I – are secretly dating,"

I shook my head dejectedly, feeling tears sting my eyes.

"Is this true, Miss Swan?" Mr. Cullen asked, looking at me again.

"No," I said brokenly.

"Is too!" Lauren seethed, leaning forward before continuing, "she's even gone as far as saying I've given you head in the locker rooms!"

The Coach deadpanned at this news, clearly shocked. Then his scowl darkened.

"This is very serious," he said, his voice deadly calm.

"She's lying!" I exclaimed, "Why won't you believe me?"

"Because I've never had to meet with my students like this before you arrived," he replied curtly, and then suddenly he snapped, "do you realize you're jeopardizing my job by spreading these lies?!"

"I'm not spreading rumors!" I denied, openly sobbing now.

The Coach got up from his chair, rubbing a hand across his face, "Fucking Christ,"

"Why don't you just admit it Bella, so we can all get out of here," Lauren mocked, grinning victoriously at me the moment Mr. Cullen turned his back to us.

I placed my head in my hands and let tears run down my face in defeat. He'd already made up his mind – Lauren was a convincing liar. But there was no way that I was going to admit to something I had never done.

"I'm telling the truth," I whispered in between silent sobs, "please…"

I didn't even know what I was begging for, but I did know I never wanted the Coach to look at me like that again. Like I was some disgusting creep he absolutely loathed.

The room fell silent again as I continued to cry.

"Miss Mallory," I heard Mr. Cullen say after a moment, "I'd like to talk to Miss Swan alone. You're dismissed,"

"But Coach!" Lauren said indignantly.

"Please leave," he said, his voice full of authority. Lauren had no choice but obey. I heard her get up from the chair next to me and walk towards the door.

"I will not put up with this anymore," she promised angrily before the door slammed shut behind her.

A quiet sigh reached my ears then and I lifted my head a little, peering at the Coach through my eyelashes. He was staring intently at me again, but as my eyes met his, his expression softened somewhat.

"Miss Swan…." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Please believe me," I pleaded pathetically.

"It's your word against hers," he stated.

"I know," I nodded somberly.

"I just don't see what you could possibly benefit from all of this," he continued.

"Nothing," I said.

"Nothing," he agreed, "but neither does she,"

I didn't say anything to that. I knew I had to tread carefully, and badmouthing Lauren, no matter how tempting it might be, would not help my situation.

I shook my head at this entire mess and hastily wiped the tears off of my face, "I'm telling the truth,"

A few seconds ticked by, and then he was suddenly sitting in the chair next to me, facing me. I lowered my head and stared at the floor, willing to keep the tears at bay this time. And then the tingling sensation was there as I felt his hand land softly on my back. I tried not to shiver at the contact. Instead, my head snapped up in surprise and I met his eyes. They were full of confusion and hurt. I realized then that he actually _wanted_ to believe me – but he didn't. He really didn't. I sniffed brokenly and voiced my thoughts.

"You don't believe me,"

It was more of a statement than a question.

"I don't know what to believe," he replied then, "I could lose my job, Miss Swan,"

"And I could get expelled!" I suddenly snapped, shaking his hand off of me and standing up. I stared hard down at him, "Don't you realize that this has consequences for me as well?"

"You should've thought of that before you spread those rumors – and harassed Miss Mallory!" He snarled; the confusion and hurt quickly being replaced with pure anger.

"Lauren is lying!" I yelled, my temper flaring dangerously as he quickly got to his feet and towered above me.

"One of you certainly is!" He seethed.

I realized that he'd overstepped his boundaries as a teacher by acting like this, but in that moment, I really didn't care. All I wanted was for him to believe me and go back to being his old, gorgeous self. But then again, if he did – if, by some miracle, I was proven right and he asked forgiveness - could I really grant him that? Could I just forget all of this? Or would our teacher/student relationship be damaged beyond repair – by Lauren Mallory of all people? I honestly didn't know. It was then that it hit me, so hard I nearly gasped as the thought crossed my mind. I really liked Mr. Cullen. Like, _really_ liked. Which was not good. No matter what happened after this, I would be heartbroken, just because when it all mattered, he simply didn't _believe_ me. How could I let this silly infatuation get this far?

"Miss Swan?" He suddenly asked in that smooth voice of his, bringing me back to reality.

I cleared my throat and met his eyes. They were the same emerald green, but clouded with frustration and something else. Something unreadable to me.

"I really want…" He said, his voice hoarse from the yelling. He seemed to have calmed down a little, but was still looking down at me.

"You want what?" I asked, perplexed at his sudden shift in mood.

He raked a hand through his bronze hair in distress, breaking our gaze.

"Shit!" He muttered under his breath.

"Mr. Cullen?" I asked carefully.

"I…" He sighed, clearly frustrated.

"You?" I fished.

"Bella…"

And just like that, with my ordinary and simple name escaping his sinful lips, my insides turned to mush. It was the first time he'd ever uttered my first name, and all I wanted was to hear it over and over again – as long as it was coming from him. My breath hitched and my eyes widened; I could feel the blush creep up my cheeks as sudden heat assaulted my trembling body.

Mr. Cullen was gazing at me again, his thick brows furrowed in contemplation.

"Yes?" I whispered, a strange feeling of hope swelling inside my chest, enveloping my erratic heart.

And then the moment broke as he turned his head, averting his eyes from me.

"You're dismissed,"

I tried not to be disappointed. I tried really, really hard. It was in vain, though. I was pathetically disappointed.

I silently grabbed my schoolbag from the floor and passed by him, making sure not to come in direct contact with him. But, as I reached the door, he suddenly spoke up.

"I'll walk you out,"

His tone was formal and business like again. I merely nodded at his offer and waited for him as he too collected his bag, along with some sheets of paper. When he approached me, I quietly slipped out the door, holding it open for him. He locked up and we walked alongside one another across the hall, the silence between us loaded and suffocating. He seemed to be occupied with his own thoughts and I wasn't even sure he was aware of my presence anymore. We exited the hall and entered the hallway leading to the stairs that would take us up to the ground floor and the school's main entrance. When we were just about to ascend the stairs however, the silence surrounding us was rudely interrupted.

"She actually cried?" A female voice said loudly, borderline hysteric as it shook with laughter.

"Like a baby!" Came the reply in form of none other than Lauren Mallory's voice as she too cackled. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they were talking about. I shrank back, halting my movements and Mr. Cullen abruptly stopped walking as well.

"And he actually believed you?" Asked the first voice, which I now recognized as Lucy Adams.

"Hey!" Lauren said mock-offended, "I can be convincing when I want to,"

"You sure can," Lucy snickered.

"It's time that bitch learned her place," Jessica's voice suddenly piped up, "she gets way too much attention around here. I mean, it's not like she's pretty or anything,"

I blushed furiously and ducked my head, feeling the telltale sign of tears prickling my eyes. Then I felt Mr. Cullen's presence as he took a step closer to me, his eyes still fixed on the top of the stairs where the voices were coming from.

"You could be an actress, you know that? I mean, to think he actually believes Bella Swan could harass _you_," Lucy continued.

"I know, like she'd even have the guts to _breathe_ in your direction," Jessica quickly agreed.

"She's such a pushover. I thought she'd be a challenge, but she actually managed to disappoint me," Lauren snorted.

And then Coach Cullen was bolting up the stairs at an alarming speed. I could tell when they spotted him as he reached the top, because the talking instantly stopped.

Before I could even think twice I hurried after him, a thrill of excitement running through my body at the idea of finally being clear of all charges. When I reached the top, the scene that met me was priceless. Lauren Mallory stood in the middle of the hallway, flanked by Lucy Adams and Jessica Stanley. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights as Mr. Cullen stared her down, his eyes so dark and furious even I had the urge to flinch back.

"What…? Did you hear….?" She asked, her voice small and trembling,

"I heard enough," Coach Cullen snarled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. It looked like he was fighting the urge to hit something.

"I can explain?" She offered weakly.

"Don't bother," he replied.

She took and involuntary step back, as did her friends. Lucy looked like she was about to cry.

"Miss Swan!" Mr. Cullen suddenly barked and my eyes widened. Was he still blaming me? Even after all we'd just heard?

I took a small step forward, timidly meeting his gaze. Again, his face softened as he studied me, and this time I could make out deep regret in his emerald orbs. He beckoned me forward with one hand and I silently obeyed. Only when his hand rested lightly on the small of my back did I relax somewhat.

"Apologize," he snapped at Lauren.

Her eyes flickered to me and she looked truly frightened.

"I'm sorry Bella," she said in a shaky voice.

I said nothing in reply, just stared hard at her. I had nearly gotten expelled because of her and I found myself to be a very cold person in that moment. I felt no sympathy for her.

"Meet me in the teacher's office – all three of you," Mr. Cullen demanded harshly. I watched as Jessica gulped nervously before they all skidded down the hall towards the teacher's office. When they were out of sight I sighed in relief.

_Well, glad that's all cleared up._

But it really wasn't. Not yet. Because when Coach Cullen turned towards me his face was so sad it nearly made me cry. I wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him, but I knew that I couldn't. I also knew that he was forgiven, even though I should be furious with him. I just didn't have it in me to be angry with him.

"Bella," he said, voicing my name again. I nearly melted.

I raised my hands up to silence him and he instantly snapped his mouth shut, clearly misunderstanding my gesture.

"No harm done," I offered silently and his eyes widened in surprise.

"What?"

"Look, I wouldn't have believed me either. You don't really know me, and I can see how it was easy to jump to the conclusion that I was lying. I'm guessing Lauren has never done something like this before, and she really is a skilled liar," I babbled.

"Don't say that," he groaned, "don't let me off the hook that easily,"

"I'm not one to hold grudges," I said matter-of-factly, "I'm just glad it's all been cleared up. I was really worried for a minute,"

He hung his head in shame and sighed, "I do apologize, Miss Swan. I wasn't at all professional about this,"

"Hey, you're new too, right? You're still learning," I shrugged, wondering why it was so easy for me to make excuses for him. I cringed at this. I had to end this infatuation once and for all – it was clearly clouding my judgment. Which is why I said the next thing with conviction.

"But you are a teacher Mr. Cullen. And I am your student. I deserve some respect and if this should ever happen again, hear me out before you yell at me, will you?" I tried to sound light hearted, but I could tell my words had an impact on him. Suddenly his face was once again void of any emotions, a reaction that puzzled me.

"I promise," he said silently.

"Now, I have a very anxious friend waiting for me out in the parking lot…" I trailed off.

"Yes," he swallowed, "yes, of course. I have some stuff to attend to as well," he added, his voice hard.

"Don't go easy on her," I grinned jokingly.

His mouth pulled up into a timid half smile, "Believe me, Miss Swan. I won't,"

***

Lauren Mallory was expelled for a week. Lucy and Jessica had to spend the next days in detention. All of their parents were alerted to the situation and I received a phone call from Mr. and Mrs. Mallory the following evening. They apologized profusely for their daughter's behavior. Charlie had talked to Mr. Mallory for a while before handing the phone over to me, the protective father in him making sure to give poor Mr. Mallory an earful. I was silently thankful and a bit touched by Charlie's concern. In school, I was met with several different reactions. The news had spread fast. Some gave me the evil-eye in the hallways, whispering among themselves without bothering to conceal their obvious dislike towards me. Angela called them "Lauren-supporters". Mike and his friends, along with the majority of the school congratulated me on my "victory". I chose to ignore such comments, not wanting anything more than for things to go back to normal. Which they did. Kind of.

Gym was awkward, at least for me. We'd moved on to volley ball, and although no significant running was involved, I still somehow managed to fall flat on my ass. Fortunately my fellow students, along with Mike, had gotten used to my clumsiness and didn't make any fuzz about it. It didn't prevent a deep blush from adorning my cheeks every time it happened, though. And as for Mr. Cullen? Well, I wouldn't really know seeing as I had trouble looking in his direction. It was clear that he'd gone back to his teacher role, shouting orders and showing how to serve the ball best without really conversing with anyone of us. He was distant and I couldn't really blame him. After all the commotion brought on by Lauren Mallory I was sure he found it hard to really trust any of the girls. He always made sure to answer their questions with curt, but polite, replies and avoid physical contact as much as possible. And yes, that most certainly included me, although I hadn't put this theory into action because I was simply too shy and intimidated by him to call for assistance. People ducked their heads and eyed me with wary expressions every time it was my turn to serve, but the Coach never offered a helping hand even though I knew he couldn't be blind to my struggles. It suited me well, and I tried to improve my volley ball skills on my own. I had settled with the idea that Mr. Cullen was likely to never utter a word in my direction anymore. But I was used to be proven wrong by this point, so when he called for me to stay behind after class the following Monday, I wasn't really that surprised.


	8. Making a Decision

**A/N: **Hey all readers! I know it's been a while but life have been pretty hectic with term papers, easter holidays and my laptop being difficult. The new chapter is finally done. It's getting pretty exciting now, and the plot takes a new turn. Thank you all for reviewing, although I haven't had time to respond. I'll be better, I promise. One of you said that if I keep up the fast updates then he/she would continue to read. I appriciate all support, but I do not respond well to demands. I have a life besides writing fanfics such as friends, family and university and I will write as often as possible but some updates will not be as fast as others. I hope you understand. With that said, I hope you like this new addition to this fic. Enjoy!

**Chapter 8 – Making a Decision**

Had I done something wrong? Was it possible that I was in trouble _again_? I turned on the spot as the Coach's voice reached me and saw him walking around in the middle of the hall, gathering discarded volley balls and throwing them into an iron basket. Angela passed by me as the students filed into the locker rooms and nudged my shoulder gently. I smiled at her as she disappeared behind the door. The hall was empty now, with me standing nervously by the bleachers as the Coach wheeled the basket into the storage room. When he returned, his emerald orbs settled on me.

"Please sit down, Miss Swan," he said, walking up to me. I did as I was told and took a seat on the bottom steps of the bleachers, Mr. Cullen instantly settling down next to me.

"Don't look so worried," he sighed then, reading my expression perfectly, "you're not in trouble,"

I felt my shoulders sag at his words and offered a polite and tentative smile in return.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to sound relaxed and happy but failing miserably.

He wasn't fooled though, and he frowned.

"I called you back to talk about your gym grade,"

I felt my face soften into a genuine smile. I wasn't worried anymore, I knew what was coming.

"It's not exactly something to be proud of," I agreed.

"Not exactly," he nodded.

"I want to improve it if possible. It's just that gym was only mandatory for two years back in Phoenix and I hadn't expected having to continue with the class when I moved here," I explained.

"I see. I hope you realize that in order to improve your grade you have to put more effort into this class. We expect more of our students now than we did last year,"

"Yeah, it's all about progressing," I guessed.

"Right," he agreed. I cast a sideways glance at him as he shifted, leaning his elbows on his legs and staring straight forward.

"I hope you don't think that I'm out to get you, with everything that's happened,"

My eyes widened in realization. I now knew why he seemed so hesitant to bring up this subject.

"Not at all," I assured him.

He looked at me then, his eyes serious, "I'm really sorry about – "

"I know, Mr. Cullen," I said, rudely cutting him off, "Lauren got her punishment, as did Lucy and Jessica. I couldn't have asked for more,"

"If you say so," the Coach said.

"Yeah, no worries,"

And uncomfortable silence settled between us then, with me wringing my hands nervously in my lap and Mr. Cullen still not looking my way.

"So," I finally piped up, "what else can I do to improve my grade – besides the effort-part? I'll work on that, it's just that ballgames aren't really my thing,"

Mr. Cullen let out a breathy laugh at this, "I figured,"

"I'll take any tips you have to offer,"

"Well," he sat up straighter and looked down at me, his crooked grin in place, "I have one suggestion, but I'm not sure you're going to like it very much,"

I raised an eyebrow skeptically. I was a good student, always had been. What made him believe that I wouldn't do about anything to improve my grades?

"Shoot," I simply said.

He drew in a deep breath and winced, "Tutoring?"

The fact that it came out more as a question than a statement wasn't lost on me. I must have reacted the way he expected me to as my mouth dropped open in surprise. He laughed.

"Thought so,"

"I…" I shook my head in confusion and frowned, "Me? Being tutored? In _gym_?"

It was as close to an insult as he'd get. Back in Phoenix I had been the tutor, making sure others got their grades up. But I had never – ever – been on the receiving line of that system. And until now, I never thought I would. The fact that the subject in question was gym was just downright embarrassing.

"That's my suggestion," he confirmed.

"But that's just… lame," I mumbled, completely dumfounded.

"It's not lame, Miss Swan," he scolded, "actually, it's great if you're willing to go to such lengths to improve your grade. It shows enormous effort and drive and that alone is enough to earn you extra credits,"

I contemplated this for a moment before huffing out a breath. This was unbelievable.

"Who would tutor me?" I finally asked dejectedly.

His grin stretched wide as he realized his victory in the matter. I wanted to pout but decided against it.

"How about Mike Newton? He's captain of the basket ball team after all,"

"Yes," I said, holding up my hands and cutting him short, "I am well aware of his position on this Oh' famous team of yours,"

Mr. Cullen looked a bit taken a back at my sudden outburst.

"He won't shut up about it. I mean, jeez, you'd think that people would be embarrassed about spending the majority of their time chasing a stupid ball around," I grimaced.

That had the Coach laughing loudly. I just stared at him, puzzled, before crossing my arms defiantly over my chest.

"And does that impress you? His glory-talk?" Mr. Cullen chuckled finally.

"No," I vehemently denied, making a show of pointing my nose up in the air, "not at all,"

"Because you're not into ballgames," he stated.

"Exactly. And because I'm simply not one of those brainless cheerleaders whose dream is to date a captain or a quarterback or whatever,"

"Is that so?" He teased.

"Yes," I snapped.

"Well then, Miss Swan, you really are one of a kind," he winked.

And we were back on dangerous territory again.

I quickly backtracked, steering us onto the subject of matter again, trying to ignore the tingling sensation in my stomach at the sound of his laugh. And his voice. And his looks. Well, everything about my gorgeous Coach, really.

"I'll agree to the whole tutoring thing, Ok? Just, please, have mercy on me. Anyone but Mike Newton," I whined.

"Fine, fine," he agreed, still laughing under his breath.

"So, other suggestions?" I asked.

He seemed to think about it for a while, his laughter dying down and a frown appearing on his pale face. I took the time to study him in silence, watching his unruly brownish-cobber hair fall onto his flawless forehead and nearly shielding one of his green eyes. His jaw line was strong and defined, tiny, dark stubbles adoring its surface and making him look impossibly hotter. His lips were red, a deep and tempting color and I had to blink a few times to avert my gaze and gather my thoughts.

"Uhm," he finally said, breaking the suffocating silence. He turned his head and looked at me, locking my eyes with his in the process. I bit my lip nervously, trying hard to not look away. It felt strangely intimate, to be gazing into his depthless orbs like this. It seemed inappropriate. I still didn't move however, but waited for him to say something more. When he did, however, my heart nearly leaped out of my chest.

"What do you think about me?" He asked, his voice low and contemplating.

"What about you?" I asked nervously, fighting the urge to lean forward and brush a lock of hair away from his face.

He smirked, as if knowing the effect he had on me. I frowned. I watched as he let his eyes wander over the hall, snapping me out of the invisible bubble they'd trapped me in.

"What if I tutor you?"

I noticed that I had, in fact, been leaning forward when I suddenly came to my senses and straightened up. I blushed, humiliated that my body had betrayed me this way, and hoped that he hadn't noticed anything. Then I realized what he was suggesting.

"You?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, me," he confirmed, raking a hand through his hair.

"Uhm… You'd do that?"

"Anything for a student,"

"But will they pay you extra for that?"

"No, it will have to be on my own free time,"

"I can't ask you to do that," I shook my head.

"You're not asking, I'm offering," he simply shrugged, "I tutored Mr. Newton for a while when he became team captain. It's no big deal, Miss Swan,"

I considered this for a moment. Maybe it wasn't a big deal for Mr. Cullen but it most certainly was for me. Spending time alone with him after school wouldn't help with my infatuation with him, that was sure. But maybe, if I got to know him a little better, I would stop seeing him that way and finally realize that he wasn't as amazing as my traitorous head made him out to be. He couldn't be, because the glorified image of my teacher that my head had conjured up was simply too good to be true. Or maybe I was only attracted to him because of his amazing looks and walking into a tutoring session would be like walking into a trap. I wouldn't know. But, there was only one way to find out.

"Ok," I agreed.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I muttered.

"Good," he said, clasping his hands together and standing up, "it's settled then. What if we start tomorrow after school and meet once a week, every Tuesday after that?"

"Sure," I said, getting up from the spot on the bleachers as well.

"4 PM sound good to you?"

"Yes,"

"I'll see you then, Miss Swan," he smiled and looked down at me. I met his eyes and offered a half-smile back, worried that I had made the wrong decision by agreeing to this.

***

"You _what_?" Angela exclaimed excitedly, making me flinch.

"Yeah, you heard me," I muttered unhappily, letting the phone rest on my shoulder as I poured some water into a casserole and placed it on the stove. The other end of the line was silent for about three seconds before an outburst of giggles reached my ear.

"Oh my freaking God!"

"It's no big deal, Ang," I sighed, snapping spaghettis in two before putting them into the casserole as well.

"Oh right. So that's why you called me, because it's no big deal?" Angela replied sarcastically.

"I just…" I hesitated, resting my back against the counter.

"You just what – have a date with the hottest man to ever walk this earth?" Angela suggested helpfully.

"It's not like that, and you know it," I rolled my eyes.

"Bella, let me tell you something about Mr. Cullen," said Angela.

"And what is that?"

"He rarely shares his free time with his students. I mean, Mike almost had to beg for Mr. Cullen to tutor him after he made the basket ball team,"

"Really?" I frowned, not having picked up on that in my earlier conversation with the Coach.

"Really. It was quite pathetic, actually. Mike hasn't always been as self-confident as he is now. Mr. Cullen must've really given him an ego-boost,"

"Huh," I muttered, stirring the spaghettis about absent-mindedly.

I was in the middle of making dinner, and had chosen this moment to call Angela to give her a brief summary of my talk with the Coach earlier that day. I knew Charlie wouldn't overhear my conversation, because he always spent my dinner-making-time to catch some ballgame on TV. I just needed someone's second opinion because I was seriously starting to doubt my decision about having Mr. Cullen tutor me. To spend alone-time with him would really test my nerves, and it was as out of my comfort-zone I ever would get. Angela, of course, supported my decision with enthusiasm. I should have known.

"So, what are you wearing?" Angela suddenly asked.

I frowned in confusion and looked down myself, my upper body completely drowning in one of Charlie's old hoodies.

"A hoodie," I said slowly, "and jeans, and –"

"You are so dense," Angela huffed, "I mean, what are you going to wear tomorrow during the tutoring session?"

I raised my eyebrows, "You're kidding right?"

"And if you say sweats I'm going to strangle you in school tomorrow,"

"But you always wear sweats during gym class," I pointed out.

"We're not talking about me, here," Angela playfully retorted, "don't you have any leggings?"

"No," I huffed.

"How about a tank top?"

I hesitated, "I guess…"

"Then wear that. It won't matter if you wear sweats as long as you pair them with a tank top," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Fine," I grumbled, pushing meatballs forcefully around in the frying pan.

"Do you have a blue one?" She asked then.

"Angela, that's enough," I dismissed, "dinner is almost done now anyways. I have to go,"

"Fine," she sighed dejectedly.

"See you in school tomorrow," I said.

"See you. Oh, and Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Wear perfume," she giggled. And then the line went dead.

I rested my head against one of the cabinets and breathed deeply in, trying to summon some sort of patience. Then I pushed away and headed into the living room to tell Charlie that dinner was done. He sniffed the air appreciatively as he got up from his chair and smiled at me.

"Smells nice,"

"Spaghetti and meatballs," I explained.

He followed me into the kitchen and took a seat by the table. It wasn't long until our plates were filled and he was digging in.

"It's really good Bells," he praised and I smiled at him. I knew spaghetti and meatballs was one of his favorites – besides steak – and I had chosen to cook this meal for a reason. I needed Charlie to be content and happy tonight.

After a while I tentatively cleared my throat, wondering how I was going to say what needed to be said. I had never been in this position before so it was a whole new territory for me.

"Um, dad?"

"Yes?" He replied through a mouthful of food. I grimaced.

"I had a talk with the gym Coach today," I said, hoping that he would overlook the redness in my cheeks. Jeez only talking about Mr. Cullen had me flushed. This was not good.

Charlie stopped chewing for a moment and looked curiously at me, "Mr. Cullen?"

"Yes," I breathed.

"Any more problems with the Mallory girl?" He asked, instantly alarmed.

"No!" I exclaimed, "no, not at all. She's still expelled,"

"Any of the other kids giving you a hard time?"

"No,"

"Then what did you talk about?"

I rolled my eyes at my father's impatient nature, "I was just getting to that,"

"Well don't keep me hanging, Bells," Charlie huffed, having momentarily forgotten about the meal altogether.

I braced myself and sighed, "We talked about my gym grade,"

I waited for him to say something – anything – but was met with silence. I finally chanced a look at him, only to find him smiling mischievously at me.

"I was wondering when that would come up," he confessed.

I laughed in relief and leaned back in my chair, "Yeah, me too,"

"So, what did he have to say about it?"

"Well, the teachers expect more of us this year. My current grade isn't good enough," I shrugged.

"What are you going to do about it?" Charlie asked, his eyebrows raised in question.

I grimaced unhappily, "Tutoring,"

Charlie laughed merrily and began eating again, "Oh Bella… you really are a piece of work, you know that? I mean, of all the subject to fail in –"

"Hey, I'm not failing!" I instantly interjected, "I'm _improving_ my grade,"

"To keep from failing," Charlie pointed out.

I pouted.

"So have you been appointed a tutor yet?" He asked, mercifully dropping the subject.

"Actually I have. Mr. Cullen has offered to do it himself,"

Charlie frowned, "Is that normal?"

I rolled my eyes, "I wouldn't know dad, this is all pretty knew to me. But he did tutor Mike Newton when he got selected to be team captain,"

"Well, it looks like Mr. Cullen really cares about his students then. He's been a good addition to the school, the team has only lost once since he began coaching them," Charlie said.

"Huh, I didn't know that," I replied.

"You make sure to be on your best behavior Bella," he said, pointing his index finger at me, "no whining or complaining just because you don't know how to throw a ball,"

"I resent that," I objected.

"Sure you do," Charlie chuckled.

The rest of the dinner was spent in easy conversation after that, with Charlie throwing playful insults at me and me being mock-offended. I wasn't surprised that Charlie had suspected my gym grade would be a subject up for discussion at some point, because honestly, my lack of coordination didn't appear out of thin air. Such things were sure to be genetic.


	9. Tutoring

**A/N: **Look who's back again with a new chapter! I've had a lot of free time on my hands the last couple of days. I would like to dedicate this one to my friend Lizzy, who will see this update once she gets home. I always promise her to never update while she's away, but isn't this a nice surprise to come home to? I really hope she, along with all of you, will enjoy this chapter. It takes things a little further...

**Chapter 9 – Tutoring**

"Blue tank top, blue tank top, blue…. Where the hell are you?" I muttered hastily under my breath, digging my head deeper into the large wardrobe. It was close to 8 AM and I would be late for school if I didn't leave soon but I was intent on following Angela's orders and wear a blue tank top for the tutoring session that would take place after school. So far however, the top was nowhere to be seen and I was losing my patience. It didn't help that I felt silly for even going to such lengths to dress up for a man that likely wouldn't care if I showed up wearing a garbage bag. He was my teacher and would never look at me as anything other than his accident-prone and extremely clumsy student. It was stupid of me to lose touch with reality like this. But the hormonal teenager in me still won the emotional battle raging inside of me and insisted that it didn't hurt to look good once in a while – and if that happened to be on a day where I would spend an hour with a godlike creature like Mr. Cullen then so be it. I even straightened my hair today, something I rarely did. I'd just concluded that I was a hopeless case of girlish infatuation. Worst part was that I could no longer call Lauren and the other girls pathetic for dressing up for him, for here was I, doing just the same.

_Ugh._

Finally my hand touched the cotton fabric of the top and I stuffed it into my gym bag. The sweats I had chosen were no different from the ones I usually wore so at least I didn't go all the way out with this stupid dress-up thing. I hastily shoved the gym bag into my school bag and slung the latter over my shoulder, all but running down the stairs. Charlie greeted me with a speculative look in the kitchen as I barged in and retrieved a piece of toast from the counter, consuming the whole thing in nearly one bite.

"In a hurry?"

"Yes," I said, my voice muffled as I wiped crumbles off my chin.

He just shook his head and handed me a cup of coffee.

"Thank you," I smiled, gulping half of the liquid down.

"You're welcome. So, you've got that tutoring thing today?"

I froze mid-step on my way to the hallway and turned around to face him. He was sitting by the table now, looking at the headlines of the morning paper.

"Yes,"

"Mhm," he murmured, glancing up at me, "and you remember our talk yesterday?"

"Which part?" I asked.

"The part where I told you to behave," he sighed, pointing at me, "I know you don't particularly like gym –"

"That's an understatement," I scoffed.

"- but the Coach is doing you a favor here and I want you to be on your best behavior –"

"Always am, dad,"

"- and don't you go wasting his time, all right? You try your best, Bella,"

"I promise," I grinned.

He smiled in return and sighed heavily, "What I wouldn't do to be a fly on that wall,"

"Oh ha-ha," I mocked, walking over and giving him a brief hug, "you have nothing to worry about, dad. Have a nice day,"

"You too Bells. And tell the Coach hi from me,"

"Yeah," I laughed, "not likely,"

And with that I waved goodbye and headed out the front door. The sun shone through the thin layer of clouds, offering some warmth and I breathed in deeply. The air smelled of fresh grass and pine needles, announcing that spring was arriving in Forks. I giggled at this thought, feeling happier than I had ever done since moving here, and made my way over to the truck. It stood in the driveway, waiting for me, its driver's seat door creaking in protest as I opened it and climbed in. The engine started with an enormous roar as usual, starling a pack of birds in a nearby tree and making them flap indignantly away. I laughed and pulled out on the road, ready to get this day over and done with so the butterflies in my stomach could get some rest.

Angela greeted me in the parking lot, which didn't come as a surprise. Her grin was wide and excited as I parked the truck and I inwardly groaned. A happy Angela was good and all, but could also be annoying, especially whenever Coach Cullen was concerned.

"Hey you," she said, giggling and linking her arm with mine.

"Hey yourself," I sighed, but couldn't keep from smiling.

She leaned closer and sniffed a couple of times as we neared the main entrance, leaving me perplexed.

"You're not wearing perfume!" She suddenly scolded and sent me a stern look.

"Sorry, I forgot," I shrugged.

"That's Ok, I had a feeling you would," she said before pausing and rummaging through her schoolbag. A couple of seconds later she was thrusting a small, shiny bottle at me, spraying my jacket with transparent droplets of Gucci perfume.

"Jeez!" I exclaimed, stepping away from the offending shower and glaring at her.

"What?" She asked innocently.

"Put that thing away," I gestured towards the bottle, "I'll put some on later, Ok?" I compromised.

"Fine," she huffed, stuffing the bottle down in her bag before she resumed walking.

"I swear you're more excited about this than I am," I rolled my eyes, "and it's not a big deal," I reminded her.

"Whatever," Angela drawled, giving me a skeptical look.

We made our way through the crowds of students, finally arriving at our destination. Calculus wasn't as long lasting as it usually was, probably because I was dreading for the time to show 4 PM. So, naturally, the rest of the school day went by in a blur. It seemed like no time had passed at all when I told Angela goodbye and headed for the locker room, the butterflies swirling crazily about in my stomach. I noticed that my palms were sweaty and once again cursed my stupidity as I changed into my gym clothes. I decided to let my hair hang loose and quickly slipped on the tank top paired with my black sweats. I felt even stupider when I checked my appearances in the mirror before entering the hall, reeking of the perfume Angela had forced upon me. I'd tried to wash the scent away, but I could still smell it as it clung to my skin. I worried my bottom lip as I eyed the empty hall, wondering what it was that I was supposed to do now. I could hear students mingling about on their way to their cars outside, the sunlight streaming through the large windows that nearly made up one of the hall's walls. Muffled sounds of chitchatting and laughter reached my ears making me feel oddly alone. I sighed and took a seat at the bleachers, waiting for my teacher to make an appearance. Five minutes later, the door to the Coach office opened and out stepped the man I had been waiting for. He was wearing his usual shorts and a black t-shirt again. I tried not to ogle his muscular chest. His eyes soon settled on my still form and the smile I received made my heart thump loudly in my chest.

"Miss Swan," he greeted, seemingly in a chipper mood.

"Hello Mr. Cullen," I croaked in reply, embarrassingly clearing my throat.

"How are you today?"

"Fine," I replied.

"Good. You ready to get started?"

"Sure," I sighed, pushing myself from the bleachers and walking across the floor towards him. He was holding a white volley ball in his hands and I eyed it warily as I drew near.

He chuckled, "Don't worry, it's not going to bite you,"

"I'm not so sure about that," I smiled, unconvinced.

"You really are scared of this little thing, aren't you?" The Coach observed as he let the object in question roll back and forth between his hands.

_His strong, pale, perfect hands_.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and shrugged at him.

"It hates me," I replied.

"Not as much as you hate it, I'm sure," Mr. Cullen grinned.

I rolled my eyes and took the ball from him, clutching it to my chest.

"What now?"

"Well, why don't we practice serving today?"

"Ok," I gulped.

He motioned for me to follow him to the end of the hall, making me face the open space.

"Give me your hand," he said then, and I tentatively did as I was told. I held my left arm out in front of me and he took it, forcing my fingers to unclench by prying them open. I tried to ignore the tingling sensation as it made its presence known the moment his skin touched mine but it was nearly impossible.

"That's right," he said once my arm was situated in the correct position.

"Now give me the ball for a sec,"

I handed the ball over to him and watched as he placed it in my open palm.

"See, no biting yet," he pointed out.

"Yet," I interjected.

He chuckled silently and then suddenly took a step to the side. I looked at him as I stood there with the ball resting in my palm, feeling utterly ridiculous.

"Good," he nodded before moving to stand behind me. My whole body tensed at this sudden proximity and I had to fight the urge to inhale his scent as he leaned close.

"Hmm…" He murmured, his hands coming up to adjust my right arm, this time closing his hand over mine so that my fingers formed a fist.

"What?" I asked.

"New perfume?"

I grimaced and clenched my eyes shut for a moment, cursing Angela for her "brilliant" ideas.

_Thanks a freaking lot Ang._

"Yes," I forced out.

"Smells nice," he said, his voice low but amused all the same.

"Thanks,"

"Ok, hold your arm straight… yes, like that," he instructed, showing me how to keep my right arm perfectly straight down my side. My left arm however, was beginning to hurt after having to hold on to the ball for so long. A trembling travelled through it and I braced myself to keep my position.

"I know, it's quite straining to keep your arm stretched out like that," Mr. Cullen said from somewhere behind me, having noticed my struggles.

"So, can I let go, then?" I asked hopefully.

"Soon," he snickered, "now, follow my moves,"

He leaned down and forced me to bend my knees a bit. I nearly melted to a puddle and had problems staying up altogether.

"Now, lean just a little bit forward," he said, pushing at my back. I did as I was told.

"Good, good. Now let's start serving," he suggested and I felt his hand close around my right arm, forcing it backwards.

"We're going to do this in slow motion to begin with," he explained, "you draw your right arm back like this…. And then, swing it forward," he said, pushing my arm to follow his instructions as he talked, "and then punch the underside of the ball," and with that, the ball left my left arm and I was finally able to let my hand drop to my side. The ball hadn't gotten far because of our slow movements, but even I could see that we'd just performed a proper serve.

"Huh," I said.

"Yep," the Coach stated amusedly, eyeing me with sparkling eyes.

"That wasn't so hard," I commented.

"I know. But, seeing as you're afraid of the ball, you're only causing problems for yourself,"

"Well I blame the ball," I stated stubbornly.

"Of course you do," Mr. Cullen teased as he walked to collect the ball before handing it over to me once more. We went through the motions a couple of more times until the Coach was satisfied and deemed me ready to serve on my own.

"Now you try," he said.

I took the ball and placed it in my left hand, raising my arm up and away from my body.

"Good," he encouraged.

While making sure that my legs were properly bent I clenched my right hand into a fist and swung it forward with as much force as I could muster, hitting the ball on the correct spot and sending it across the hall.

"Excellent!" Mr. Cullen exclaimed, clapping his hands together once in satisfaction.

"I did it," I muttered perplexed.

"You sure did," he chuckled, looking intently at me.

"And I'm not even injured!" I observed then.

"No, Bella, you're not,"

My breath hitched at the sound of my name escaping his lips and I blushed deeply. I didn't think he even noticed his slipup as he ran across the hall to fetch the volley ball.

"Again!" He insisted, handing it over to me. And so the rest of the session was spent with me serving the ball and the Coach running across the hall to retrieve it every time. I was immensely proud of myself and I could tell that he was too, his grin wide and excited. All too soon the hour was coming to an end. My left arm was throbbing from the exercise but it felt nice.

"You're doing great," Mr. Cullen said once we were done and I beamed up at him.

"Thanks so much for helping me," I said.

"No problem. I think I'm actually going to enjoy our little sessions," he winked. As if on cue, my face went flaming red, but I didn't really care at the moment.

We went to sit on the bleachers for a while, Mr. Cullen showing me to stretch my arms in order to prevent them from being sore tomorrow. I happily obliged, loosing myself completely in his velvet voice. As we sat there however, I noticed how the glimmer in his eyes died down. He turned away from me then, resting his back against the step behind us. I didn't dare say anything, but the silence that suddenly consumed us was far from comfortable.

"Miss Mallory will be back at school tomorrow," he suddenly said, his voice low and thoughtful.

My mood instantly dampened and I sighed, "Yes, I know,"

"Bella," he said, facing me again, clearly having left all pleasantries aside.

"Yes?" I breathed, meeting his conflicted gaze.

"If she gives you any trouble, any at all, you have to tell me, all right?" He almost pleaded, leaning closer and taking one of my hands in his big, warm ones.

My blood raced through my veins and I bit my bottom lip, completely captivated by the man in front of me.

"Huh?" Was all I managed.

"I don't think she has the guts to try anything with you. I warned her of the consequences if she did, but…" Mr. Cullen shook his head and exhaled, "I can't be sure. If she gives you a hard time, I want you to go straight to me, Ok?"

I nodded my head and smiled tentatively, "Yeah, Ok,"

"Good," he muttered and released my hand. I instantly missed the contact, "now I'm sure you're expected at home. I won't keep you any longer,"

I didn't know what to say to that so I simply got to my feet. He followed my lead and stood in front of me, giving me one of his famous crooked smiles, "Take care now, Miss Swan. I'll see you on Monday,"

"Wait, what?" I frowned, suddenly feeling distressed, "but we have gym tomorrow?"

"Yes," he said, going back to rolling the ball in his hands and successfully breaking our gaze, "I'm afraid I'll be out of town until Friday,"

"Why?" I blurted out before I managed to stop myself, instantly covering my mouth with my hand in shame.

Mr. Cullen looked at me then, his expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," I said bashfully.

"That's Ok," he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. At all.

"No, I'm sorry," I repeated.

"Bella, don't apologize," he scolded, "I have to leave because of some family matters, that's all,"

"Ok," I nodded, feeling incredibly stupid, "I, uhm… I'll see you on Monday, then,"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Monday,"

And with that I turned to leave, feeling heat blaze in my cheeks as I did so.

"Hey Bella?" His smooth voice suddenly called and I turned around.

"Don't let Mrs. Geoff get to you, Ok?" He smirked.

I managed a weak laugh in return, "I won't,"

Studying him for a moment longer, trying to memorize his features now that I knew I wouldn't be able to see him in nearly a week, I sighed and waved goodbye.

***

The rain came pouring down that evening, the telltale sound of heavy droplets of water hitting the roof and window panes loudly. My bedroom was bathed in darkness as I lay under the covers, willing my brain to shut down so I could catch some sleep. But my brain had decided to work on overdrive and had done so ever since I'd exited the gym hall earlier in the afternoon. With all that had been going on, Lauren spreading lies about me and nearly getting me expelled, my tutoring session with Mr. Cullen and the load of homework the teachers had decided to dump on me as well as the other students I was sure to overanalyze everything and unable to catch some sleep. There were just too many conflicting emotions and thoughts to sort through that I didn't even know what to do with myself. Add the fact that Renee still hadn't contacted me after I'd moved from Phoenix and I felt quite helpless. To think that the sun had managed to put a smile on my face this morning was the only highlight of the day was downright sad.

_Well, not the only highlight…_

I willed myself not to go there; not to get sucked into daydreams of my gym coach because it wouldn't lead to anything other than misery. And now he was gone, he wasn't in town anymore.

_Jeez, I'm starting to sound like a clingy girlfriend._

Rolling over and clutching the pillow to my face I exhaled loudly. Lauren would be back tomorrow and I had no idea what she would be like. Would she ignore me and pretend that nothing had happened? Or would she continue harassing me whenever the opportunity rose? And how could I tell the Coach if she chose the latter option when he wasn't even in school? But then again, would I have told him if he was present? Hadn't I caused enough trouble for him with my Lauren-problems?

With a groan I sat up and switched on my bedside lamp, squinting as soft light flowed through the room. Sleep would not grant me a visit for a while, that was for sure, so I figured I could make the most of it and get some homework done. Pulling my schoolbag and setting it on the mattress, I found my calculus books and got to work. It was difficult and tiring, my eyes swimming after only ten minutes. But I continued on, realizing that it was enough to keep my mind too occupied to dwell on my earlier thoughts.

At 3 AM I finally put the books away and turned the lamp off once more, sure that I was exhausted enough to fall asleep. I was wrong. A loud thunder rolled across the sky followed by a bright flash of lightening, making me shiver. I'd always hated thunderstorms. A branch kept hitting the window regularly, the wood making a scary scratching sound against the glass. The rain continued on, making me mad. I drew my legs up and tucked my knees against the chest, opting to lie in fetal position as if that would be enough to shut the voices out. Of course it wasn't, and I found myself longing for my mother's embrace and her soothing voice. The same mother that hadn't even bothered to pick up the phone and call me in several weeks. I let out an impatient huff as this thought crossed my mind and stayed put, feeling immensely sorry for myself. I knew she was on the road with Phil and probably busy. Besides, she was so easily distracted and had probably lost track of time altogether. Since she didn't have a cell phone I couldn't call her, and I guessed that my unanswered e-mails meant that she was somewhere without internet connection. I should've bought her a portable internet connection before I'd left.

Stretching my arms above my head I could feel my limbs protest, already sore and hurting from the tutoring session. This brought a small smile to my face and I blushed, once again cursing myself for my girlish stupidity. Here I was, having spent my entire 17 years of existence believing that I'd never fall for someone like Renee had fallen for Phil, and like Charlie and Renee had fallen for each other once upon a time; and now I was actually daydreaming about a guy. And not just any guy – no, that would've been too simple, wouldn't it? It just had to be my unattainable teacher of all people, a man rather than a boy and so out of reach as one ever could get. Not that I actually wanted to act upon this silly crush of mine; like I would ever put myself in such a vulnerable position.

_Nope. Not me._

I had never been one to believe in happily-ever-after and I was content with things just as they were. It wasn't like any relationships lasted anyway. And even so, I was far too young to get into something serious. Which was silly even to consider, because the Coach was way out of my league. And why was I even thinking of relationships and Mr. Cullen anyway?

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

I groaned and laid on my back, covering my eyes with my arms and pouting at the roof. It was close to 5 AM when I finally managed to slip into a light slumber, only to be awoken by the alarm clock a couple of hours later. I dragged my sleep deprived body out of bed and stomped heavily across the floor, gathering my clothes in my arms. They protested under the light weight, which made me roll my eyes. If a small hour of serving a stupid ball was all it took for me to get muscle-bound, what would happen when we got to the heavier stuff? And, as soon as that question entered my mind, I blushed a deep crimson and hurried off to the bathroom.

_Heavier stuff with Mr. Cullen? Yeah, don't go there._

I lingered under the spray of the shower longer than necessary and enjoyed every minute of it. It wasn't until Charlie started banging on the door that I turned the taps and got out. It was still raining heavily when I sat down to eat breakfast 15 minutes later and I placed my head on my arm and sighed dejectedly.

"Bells?"

I looked up and met the brown and concerned eyes of my father as he stared at me over the morning paper.

"Just tired," I muttered, not bothering to offer a more detailed explanation.

"I can tell. Didn't you sleep at all last night?" He huffed worriedly.

"How can I possibly sleep in this noise?" I whined, motioning at the window.

"Point taken," Charlie muttered, "you'll get used to it though,"

I fought the urge to tell him that I didn't _want _to get used to it – that it was abnormal to be able to sleep when it sounded as if the roof could come crashing down on you at any given moment. I merely grunted unintelligible though and nibbled on the end of a piece of toast, not really feeling hungry at the moment.

Half an hour later I drove into the school's parking lot, searching for a spot. Finding one near the school's entrance I quickly hopped out of the truck and ran across the concrete ground to the sanctuary that was the school. My efforts were in vain, I was drenched to the bone the minute I left the car. Leaning against my locker and waiting for me as usual was Angela, always in a good mood. The rain didn't seem to bother her at all.

"So?" She asked once I greeted her.

"So what?" I asked grumpily, pulling my locker open and shoving my book bag inside of it with unnecessary force.

"How did it go yesterday, with the tutoring?" She asked, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Fine," I shrugged dismissively, ignoring how my heart stuttered at the thought of yesterday's events.

"Oh boo, Bella," Angela scolded.

"All right," I sighed in surrender, "I now know how to properly serve a volley ball,"

"That's it?" Angela asked deadpanned.

"Pretty much," I lied.

"Come on, what really happened? You're a terrible liar you know,"

I grimaced, "Yeah, I know,"

"So?"

"Fine!" I finally snapped, turning towards her, "he liked your goddamn perfume,"

"Really?" Angela all but squealed, bouncing happily on her feet.

I couldn't help but chuckle tiredly at her as we made our way to our first class.

"Yeah, really,"

"Ok, what else?"

"Well, he was kind enough to remind me that Lauren will be back today," I said.

"Oh," Angela's mood fell instantly, "Yeah, I'd totally forgotten about that,"

"Me too," I shrugged, "but he wanted me to come to him personally if she gave me any trouble,"

"That's good to know," Angela grinned, "maybe he'll lend you his shoulder to cry on,"

"No," I dismissed on a laugh, "I promise you Angela, I will not shed another tear because of Lauren,"

"You go girl!" She teased.

We reached the classroom and fell silent as we took a seat next to each other, the teacher calling for our attention immediately.

***

The main topic throughout school that day was the upcoming dance that Angela had once told me about. I couldn't really care less and didn't find this event exciting at all. Of course, since Angela had insisted that I buy that dress when we were in Port Angeles, I was expected to go. And, as the good friend she was, she'd informed Tyler, Mike and Eric about this. All the boys tried to gain my attention during lunch, giving me subtle hints that none of them had a date yet. Angela was staring at Ben Cheney across the cafeteria, as he'd gone back to his own table now that the whole fuzz around me and Lauren had died down. Lauren was indeed back, and in full force. She kept casting me evil glares whenever Mike asked me a question, but I chose to simply ignore her. I was a coward that way, but I really didn't want to get any more on her bad side than I already had. Finally, the bell rang and Angela and I quickly gathered our things and headed out of the double doors. Mike and Tyler were still at our sides and I tried my best to be polite and attentive. It was very difficult.

As we descended the stairs leading down to the locker rooms, Angela ducked her head and leaned in.

"Looking forward to the class, Miss Swan?" She asked teasingly.

"Not really," I shrugged.

"And why is that?" She pried.

"Well, Mrs. Geoff isn't my favorite teacher, that's all,"

"What?" She exclaimed.

"Yep, she's standing in for Mr. Cullen today," I shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

"Oh joy," she groaned then, her steps sagging as we entered the locker room.

"How do you know that?" Someone suddenly asked.

I turned around and came face to face with Lauren. She tossed her blonde locks over her shoulder and stared me down.

"The Coach told me," I said matter-of-factly before whipping around and walking over to my changing-spot.

"And why would he tell _you_ that?"

"I don't know, Lauren," I sighed dejectedly, "we talked about my grade and he happened to mention it,"

I was a fool for lying and even offering her an explanation, but I really didn't want to deal with her right now. I was too worn-out and too tired to even try to act standoffish.

"Fine," she sneered and instantly started whispering to Jessica and Lucy both of which kept glancing my way.

_Great. Lauren was actually talking behind my back in front of me. Where's my backbone at again?_

Angela and I changed into our gym clothes and entered the hall, eager to get out of the locker rooms.

"Good call, there," she complimented.

"What's that?" I asked distractedly, staring at the spot where Mr. Cullen and I had spent close to one hour the day before.

"You know, dodging the truth. I don't think Lauren would respond well if she knew Mr. Cullen was tutoring you," she said.

"Well I'm not planning on telling her," I said.

"Good. Let it be your little secret," Angela whispered mischievously.

"Ha," I replied sarcastically.

"Form a line!" Came a sudden bark from across the hall and Angela and I turned to find Mrs. Geoff staring at us as she approached.

"Now!" She ordered.

"You know," Angela mused as we did as we were told, "I don't think I like that woman very much either,"


	10. Crossing the Line

**A/N: **PUH, this is the longest chapter so far, and I really hope you'll like it! It may start out slow but I promise that it'll pick up in the middle. We are finally getting somewhere! Thanks so much for your reviews, they all really make my day(s). With that said, here goes nothing!

**Chapter 10 –Crossing the Line**

"Hey Arizona! Wait up!"

I halted my steps and turned around, allowing students to pass by me on their way to the parking lot. I skipped under the roof as it was still raining and frowned in confusion when I saw Mike heading my way, a smile stretching across his face. I hoisted my bag on my shoulder and tapped my foot against the stone floor impatiently and huffed, wanting nothing more than to go home so that this dreadful day could be over and done with. Gym had been horrible and I failed to keep my promise to the Coach by not letting Mrs. Geoff get to me. Because she really _did_ get on my nerves. I'd managed some really awesome serves however, until Mrs. Geoff demanded my team to rotate so that I could practice my playing skills. Damn that woman. All in all, my forehead was sore from the ball landing on it repeatedly throughout class and my mood had hit rock bottom as a result of Mrs. Geoff's mocking comments. Apparently I was a coward from shying away from the ball. I officially hated volleyball.

"What's up?" I asked with fake enthusiasm as Mike finally stopped in front of me. His blonde hair stood up in spikes and small droplets of water were slipping down from the strands and trailing down his face.

"I was just wondering…" He said hesitantly, scraping the tip of his shoe on the ground and averting my gaze.

"Wondering what?" I asked.

"If you would maybe, like… go to the dance with me?" He looked at me then, his expression hopeful.

I exhaled heavily and offered him a small, apologetic smile, "I uh… I was actually considering going solo,"

"Why?" He frowned.

"Well, I'm only going because Angela is practically forcing me," I admitted shamefully, "but I'm not planning on doing any dancing. And that would be unfair to my date, seeing it's a dance and all,"

"Oh!" Mike said but then surprised me by grinning widely, "well, I won't force you to dance. We could just, you know, hang,"

"No, I don't want to ruin your fun," I hastily replied.

"No worries Bella. Come on, what do you say? Go with me and I won't force you to dance," he offered.

I contemplated this for a moment. He was sort of giving me a green card – if I accepted and went as his date, I would be able to spend the entire night avoiding the dance floor. And, seeing as I would be with him, no other guy would try to force me to dance. But then again, I knew that Mike would read a lot into my yes and expect something more than friendship as a result of this. I simply couldn't lead him on like that.

"I'm sorry, Mike," I finally sighed, "I think I'd rather go alone. I won't be staying long anyway,"

His face fell immediately and I felt bad, but I knew I'd made the right choice. His reaction held the answer to my earlier musings – he did see me as more than a friend.

"Well, all right," he said dejectedly, "I'll just ask Jessica then,"

"I'm sure she'll like that," I encouraged, patting his shoulder awkwardly.

"Yeah," he muttered, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, "I'll see you tomorrow,"

"Sure. Bye Mike," I smiled before turning around and heading for my truck.

My hair was damp and clung to my face as I opened up the door and jumped in, hitting my head against the headrest and letting out a huge sigh. I hated turning down Mike. Even though he could be a bit clingy at times, he was a good guy and I really wanted him as a friend. But, the best way to ruin a potential friendship was to read too much into things, and that was exactly what Mike had been doing ever since I'd gotten to know him. And that just sucked. I turned on the engine and backed out of my spot, heading for Charlie's house. Once I got out on the main road I managed to relax a little, deciding that I'd done the right thing. Maybe in time Mike would get over his little infatuation and start acting normally around me. Just like I was planning on getting the Coach out of my head and finally see him for what he was: my teacher. And that thought made me wonder just what sort of family matters he had to travel out of town for. I hastily distracted myself from my line of thinking by planning today's dinner, wondering what Charlie was in the mood for on a rainy day like this. Probably steak.

I finally pulled into the driveway and ran towards the front door, cursing under my breath. The wind whipped droplets of water in my face, which did nothing to lighten my mood. I barged into the hallway and slammed the door shut only to shriek in surprise as I spotted a figure standing right in front of me. I took a hasty step backwards, stumbling on a pair of shoes and landing on my butt – all the while clutching a hand to my damp chest in shock. The ceiling lamp was suddenly switched on and I looked into the smug face of Jacob Black as he stared down at me.

"Surprised?"

"What the hell?" I roared angrily, getting to my feet and pointing an accusing finger at him.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Charlie invited me over for dinner. He told me where the spare key was hidden. You didn't expect me to wait out in that weather, did you?" He shrugged carelessly before traipsing into the living room and settling down on the couch.

As if on cue, I could hear Charlie's car park outside, followed by his heavy footsteps on the gravel as he approached the house. I quickly stepped away to give room for the door to open, still sending Jacob my best death-glare. He just smirked innocently at me, turning the TV on.

"Dad!" I whined accusingly the minute Charlie entered the house, making him jump in surprise.

"Hey Bella," he said hesitantly, eyeing me.

"Why didn't you tell me Jacob Black was coming over? He nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Oh!" He smiled, peeking into the living room, "Hey Jake! You found the spare key, then?"

"Yep," Jacob nodded merrily.

"Good, good," Charlie nodded before kicking his boots off.

"Hello?" I wailed, flapping my arms helplessly around.

"Jeez Bella, calm down," Jacob chuckled.

"Sorry Bells. Must've slipped my mind. What's for dinner?" Charlie asked, taking a seat next to Jacob.

I just stood there, gaping at them.

"Did you catch that game last night?" Jacob asked, placing his feet on the coffee table.

"Sure did," Charlie grinned, following the younger teen's example.

I huffed indignantly and stomped into the kitchen, feeling completely ignored. I made sure to slam the cupboards and make as much noise as possible as I prepared dinner, absolutely fuming with rage. As if my day hadn't been bad enough, I had to cook dinner for Jacob Black on top of it all.

_Stupid mongrel._

It wasn't long until the smell of steak and baked potatoes filled the house, eventually making Charlie and Jacob to grant me with their presence in the kitchen.

"Your girl sure knows how to cook," Jacob said, as if I wasn't standing just two feet away from him.

"Don't I just know it," Charlie beamed, giving me a sly wink.

I stuck my nose up in the air and turned my back on them, leaving them to their boring boys-talk.

"Aw, come on Bells, don't be like that," Jacob said, "I didn't _mean_ to scare you,"

"Of course you didn't," Charlie agreed gruffly, sending me a warning look.

My shoulders sagged and I sighed dejectedly, "I know,"

"Having a bad day?" Jacob asked then.

"Yes," I replied.

"Tell me about it?" Charlie requested as he took a seat by the table. I lifted the frying pan and walked over to the two of them, placing a piece of steak on each of their plates.

"There's nothing to tell," I shrugged dismissively, placing the pan back on the stove.

"The pale faces giving you a hard time?" Jacob wondered.

"No,"

"The teachers?"

"No one's giving me a hard time," I said through gritted teeth, retrieving the potatoes from the oven.

I served them the potatoes and sat down.

"Eat," I ordered.

They seemed happy to oblige.

Jacob stayed longer than strictly necessary, watching some game with Charlie after dinner. He left around ten and I happily waved him off before securely locking the door, glad to finally be rid of him.

"What the hell was that?" I asked then, completely throwing Charlie off guard.

"What was what?" He asked perplexed, averting his gaze from the screen to look at me.

"Inviting Jacob over for dinner, that's what," I replied.

"I thought it'd be nice to have him here for the day. You know, you used to be friends with him," Charlie shrugged.

"Oh so that's what this is about? Matchmaking?" I asked incredulously.

"No," Charlie said, a little too quickly.

"Great dad," I huffed and snatched up my bag, "just great,"

I left him alone then, ascending the stairs and entering my bed room, ready to get some homework done. I knew Charlie was very fond of Jacob and would probably encourage me to spend time with him, but to invite him over without telling me first was just low. I'd had a shitty day and had expected to spend the evening alone – not with Jacob Black of all people.

I opened my Spanish book and sat down in the middle of the bed, a pen clutched in my hand. It was tiring work, but needed to be done. Just when I was about to absorb myself in the difficult grammar, Charlie called from downstairs. I sighed and got up.

"What?" I asked as I stood on top of the stairs.

"There's someone on the phone asking for you," he said over the evening news.

I hurried downstairs and reached the hallway.

"Hey, this is Bella," I said as I rested the phone against my ear, trying to block out the sounds coming from the TV in the living room.

"Hey Bella. This is Tyler," a male voice replied happily.

"Oh," I breathed in surprise.

"Yeah, uhm, Angela gave me your phone number,"

"Ok," I murmured, wondering what this was all about.

"So I didn't get the chance to catch up with you after school today," he continued on.

"You were looking for me?" I asked.

"Yes, I wanted to ask you something,"

"Well go ahead," I chuckled, not really understanding the hesitance I could hear in his voice.

"Have you've got a date to the dance yet?"

_Oh hell no. _

I grimaced at my reflection in the hallway mirror and leaned my back against the opposite wall.

"Uh, no,"

"I heard Mike was going to ask you," Tyler hinted.

"He did. I declined," I said, deciding to be as honest as possible.

"Really?" He said enthusiastically.

"Really. I uh, I don't really dance. At all. I'm going because Angela wants me to,"

"You can't go alone," he said convincingly.

"I'll be with Angela,"

"Isn't she going with someone?"

"I don't know," I huffed impatiently.

"Well why don't you go with me?" Tyler asked then.

I had expected that and had my answer ready, "Like I said, I don't dance. I'll probably just bore you,"

"Impossible," he chuckled, clearly not taking a hint.

"Look, I've kind of decided on going alone," I nearly snapped, losing my patience.

He was quiet for a couple of seconds, as if adjusting my answer.

"So you won't go with me?" He suddenly asked, sounding less cocky that he'd done a mute before.

"Sorry, Tyler," I sighed regretfully. I didn't want to upset him but it was clear now that he, like Mike, had been expecting something other than friendship from me.

"That's all right, I guess. Look, uhm, I got to go," he rushed.

"I'm sorry," I said regretfully.

"Bye,"

"Bye Tyler,"

I hung up the phone and smacked my head softly against the wall, calming myself.

"Bells? Who was that?" Came Charlie's voice from the living room and I cringed.

"Just a friend from school," I answered dismissively, running up the stairs before he got a chance to ask any more questions.

I couldn't believe that I'd been reduced to turn down two perfectly Ok guys. I fell down on the bed and hugged the pillow tightly to my chest, feeling like a terrible person. Here I was, an ordinary and quite plain girl, getting asked out by one boy after the other and I dismissed all of them – including Jacob Black. I didn't understand why the opposite sex had suddenly taken such an interest in me. It wasn't like I was sought after back in Phoenix. Had I changed since I'd moved here? Sure, I felt more comfortable in my new home town than I'd expected, and Angela was a huge part of that. She was my first, real friend and I supposed I was happier in Forks High than I'd ever been at my old school where I'd spend the lunch hours in the girls' bathroom. But could that inner change really be reflected on the outside? Or maybe the fact that I was the new girl along with the Chief's daughter had something to do with all of this.

I exhaled loudly and gritted my teeth. It was enough that I was going to this dance – I could not expect a possible date to sit at a table with me for hours while the other kids were having fun. No matter what happened, I would not enter the dance floor and I didn't want to ruin the dance for Mike and Tyler. If they wanted to hang once we were there, then that was Ok, though. I did want to keep them as friends after all.

I figured it was late enough to go to bed so after telling Charlie a quick goodnight I changed into my pajamas and scooted under the covers. The rain pelted against the house so I decided to turn the CD player on in an attempt to drown out the noise. Since I nearly didn't get any sleep the previous night I quickly drifted off, although my slumber was nowhere being as deep and relaxing as it should've been.

***

The rest of the week went by slowly. It seemed like each class dragged on for hours even though the teachers gave us a lot to work on. By Friday I was simply fed up with anything school related and asked Angela if she wanted to go to Port Angeles and catch a movie. She happily agreed and after the final bell rang we all but ran to our respective cars. She followed me home and I rushed inside the house to collect a purse and some money, leaving a note for Charlie saying I was going to spend the evening with Angela. He wouldn't mind.

Running though the everlasting rain I jumped into Angela's Jeep and we were on our way. She wanted to see some chick-flick drama that was showing and since I couldn't find anything better to watch I agreed. The cinema was situated in the center of the town and was filled with kids and young adults. We purchased our tickets and headed for the kiosk; Angela said she could never go to the movies without buying popcorn. As we stood in line to buy the candy Angela held securely in her hands, a familiar voice suddenly penetrated through the rest of the chatter surrounding us and my head instantly whipped around to search for the source. There, standing a few feet away from us was Mr. Cullen. He wore his usual leather jacket; all damp from the rainy weather outside, and the look on his beautiful face perked my interest. He looked irritated but amused all the same as he talked to his companion. My eyes drifted to the girl standing next to him.

"Who is that?" I heard Angela mutter next to me as she too had taken notice of the pair.

The girl was short – even shorter than me and I was considered near dwarf-size next to the people in my class. Her hair was coal-black and stood out in perfectly styled spikes from her head. Although it should have looked crazy, she radiated such confidence that the hair almost seemed natural. She had on a dark trench-coat with fancy zebra-patterned buttons that went all the way down to her knees. The pattern on the buttons matched the fabric of her clearly expensive purse. I named her "zebra girl" in my head.

"I don't know," I answered Angela's question, my eyes still resting on the stylish girl.

"She looks so elegant. She can't be much older than us though," Angela mused.

I had to agree – the black-haired girl was young. Why on earth was she here with Coach Cullen of all people?

"Come on!" I heard her whine, her voice as clear as a bell as it reached my ears.

Mr. Cullen frowned disapprovingly.

"Believe me, you don't need any more sugar," he said smoothly but still loud enough for me to hear.

Zebra girl pouted then, turning her eyes upward in a pleading, puppy-dog way. I realized then that the color of her eyes were the same as the Coach's; emerald green.

"Do you think she could be his sister?" I asked.

"Maybe. Yeah it looks like it, doesn't it?" Angela said.

The more I looked, the more similarities I found between the two of them. Besides the eye color, they shared the same nose. She also had one hell of a crooked smile.

They continued the banter and it was my turn to pay. I placed my soda on the counter and greeted the girl at the cash register with a small smile.

"Will that be all?" She asked sweetly.

"Yes," I said, handing her the money clutched in my hand.

"Who are you looking at?" The bell-like voice suddenly asked, much closer this time. I turned around and saw her looking up at Mr. Cullen with a curious expression on her face. My eyes drifted automatically towards him and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized he was staring straight at me.

"Excuse me, but your holding up the line," the girl at the cash register suddenly said, bringing me back to reality. I broke the spell the Coach's eyes had put me under and stepped to the side, allowing Angela to pay.

"He's staring at you!" She hissed under her breath.

"I know!" I whispered back at her. I sneaked another peak at him and received a devilish smile as he caught my eyes. I blushed.

"Who is that? Edward?" Asked the zebra girl.

He ignored her, instead stepping forward and heading towards where Angela and I were standing.

"Miss Swan," he greeted.

"Hello Mr. Cullen," I politely replied.

"Oh and hello to you too, Miss Weber," he said then, finally noticing Angela as she collected her candy and popcorn off the counter.

"Hi Coach!" She beamed happily.

"Edward!" The bell-like voice held a hint of irritation now as the owner caught up with him and stood at his side once again.

I frowned in confusion, looking from the strange girl to Mr. Cullen. And then it clicked.

"Your name is Edward?" I asked perplexed, not realizing until now that I'd never gotten to know his first name.

"Indeed it is, Miss Swan," he smirked in reply.

Zebra girl turned towards me then, a peculiar look resting on her flawless face.

"Are you going to introduce me Edward?" She asked, elbowing him in the side.

"Ow," he frowned, "I was just getting to that Alice. Jeez,"

She chose to ignore him, looking at me instead as she extended her arm, "I'm Alice – without the Jeez. Bella Swan, was it?"

I grinned and accepted the greeting gesture, nodding in reply, "And this is Angela Weber,"

Alice shook Angela's hand then, but her emerald orbs soon settled on me again.

"I assume this mongrel here is your teacher?"

"Alice!" Mr. Cullen interjected, "and yes, I am,"

"Well I'm his little sister," she explained then, as if the man next to her hadn't spoken at all.

"Nice to meet you Alice," Angela said shyly.

"The pleasure is all mine – trust me," she winked. She was still staring at me though. I found her intense gaze a bit unnerving though and tried to come up with an excuse to leave. She beat me to it, though.

"Well, our movie is starting soon. We should pay for thus stuff and get going," Alice said, motioning with her head to the chips and candy resting in Mr. Cullen's arms.

"Yes, we should," he agreed on a sigh.

I smiled at him, "See you on Monday then?"

"Monday," he agreed, grinning widely.

"Bye," Angela piped up then, taking a hold on my arm and all but dragging me away.

I managed a quick smile at Alice before I was whisked into the crowd of people.

"Well that was a bit rude of you, don't you think?" I pointed out as we handed our tickets over and were allowed into the movie theatre.

"The way she was staring you was just too weird," Angela explained.

"You noticed that too?" I asked.

"One would have to be blind not to notice that,"

"Huh,"

We found our seats and settled down.

"One thing, though," Angela mused as she placed the bag of popcorn in her lap, her gaze fixed on the big screen ahead. It was showing nothing but stupid commercials but I followed her lead anyway.

"What's that?" I asked.

"How did she know your name?" She asked.

I frowned, "Mr. Cullen said my name before I got the chance to introduce myself," I stated.

"No he didn't," Angele smirked.

"Yes, he did!" I insisted, "When I asked about _his_ name remember? He said, "Indeed, Miss Swan," I quoted, remembering the previous conversation by heart. My mind would probably replay the whole incident over and over again when I went to bed later on.

"Miss Swan, yeah. But Alice called you _Bella_,"

I was just about to snatch some popcorn from her when my hand froze mid-air.

"What?"

Angela smirked at me, her eyes gleaming mischievously bind her glasses.

"How… what?" I frowned perplexed. Going over the conversation in my head, I realized that Angela was speaking the truth. Mr. Cullen hadn't addressed me by my first name in front of his sister, but she still knew my name.

"What does this mean?" I muttered to myself.

"Oh dear Bells, so oblivious," Angela chuckled softly as she stuffed her mouth full of popcorn. The theatre went dark then, booming sound penetrating the air and preventing me from saying anything in return. Several questions still swirled about in my head however, making me unable to really pay attention to the screen as the movie finally started.

***

Ok, so teachers talked about their students to their friends and family. That was only natural and the only possible explanation as to why Alice knew me by my first name.

_Right. That's it._

I was surely known as the clumsy girl with no coordination whatsoever who needed tutoring just to pass gym. That last fact alone was enough to make a teacher talk. Clearly Mr. Cullen found this amusing and would want to share the news. With Alice, his sister.

_How humiliating._

I could just picture the Cullen family, sitting around some grand table, discussing my hopeless case over dinner.

My troubled head barely registered as the weekend went by. Suddenly it was Monday and I was headed for calculus with Angela faithfully trudging next to me, her steps slow and deliberate as she huffed and awed basically admitted that she hadn't done her homework. I had to laugh at that.

"Angela you had the whole weekend to get it done. What have you been up to?" I questioned amusedly as we entered the classroom. To my surprise her cheeks flushed an adoringly red.

"Angela?" I asked, my interest fully perked now.

"Ok so, I've been dying to tell you," she suddenly blurted excitedly as we found our seats in the back. She lowered her voice to avoid anyone hearing what she was about to say.

"I went grocery shopping on Saturday, right? And you know those ridiculous plastic bags that they give you, they rip easily and of course mine did, in the middle of the parking lot. I mean, I had tampons in there,"

"Ok," I said, raising my eyebrows and wondering what she was getting at.

"So I was collecting my stuff and suddenly someone was there, helping me," she said, pausing dramatically.

"Who?" I whispered.

"Ben!" She beamed gleefully.

"That's nice of him," I nodded.

"I know! He even helped me carry my stuff to the car. And of course we began talking," she continued, her eyes dreamy and distant as she relived Saturday's events in her head.

"And?"

"I just happened to mention the dance," she smirked.

"Did he ask you? Oh please Angela, say that he did!" I urged impatiently.

"Actually, I asked him," she stated proudly.

"Good girl," I teased, "did he say yes?"

"Yes," she giggled, "he did!"

I beamed, nudging her shoulder playfully, feeling truly happy for my friend.

"That's great Ang,"

"I know, right? I just took a leap and did something totally uncharacteristic of me. I've never been so bold before. It felt good,"

"I'm proud of you," I agreed.

She sighed happily and leaned her chin on her hand, staring off into space. I figured she needed some time to collect herself so I opened up my books, waiting for class to start. Suddenly Eric was at my table, looking down his nose at me, a nervous smile adorning his face.

"Hi Eric," I greeted.

"Hello Bella," he replied shyly.

"What's up?"

He cleared his throat, letting his eyes roam around the room for a minute, avoiding my gaze.

"Eric?" I asked worriedly.

"I was wondering…" he began, looking at me again, a blush creeping up his neck.

I grimaced and sat up straight, not even believing my own ears. He wasn't about say what I thought he was, was he?

"About the dance…" He continued.

"I'm sorry," I cut him short, making Angela's head whip around to stare at me, "I'm going solo,"

"Oh," Eric huffed disappointedly, looking at the ground, "I thought that was maybe just an excuse you made up to get Mike and Tyler to back off,"

"Sorry, no," I dismissed regretfully. If I kept this up, I might lose all of my male friends.

"That's Ok," he said, managing a weak smile, "I understand," and with that he trudged over to his own desk before plumping ungracefully down on his chair.

"Mike and Tyler asked you to the dance?" Came Angela's curious voice.

"Yes," I muttered, "I turned them down,"

"Figured as much," she snickered, "why, though?"

"I just…. I don't know," I exclaimed irritated, "I don't see them that way and I don't want to give them the wrong impression. Besides, I'm _not_ dancing,"

"You're hopeless," Angela laughed, "they're both really great guys, you know,"

"I know," I sighed, "just not my types, none of them,"

"I see. Who do you want to go with then?"

"No one. Like I said, I'm not dancing so I'll probably bore anyone who takes me," I shrugged.

"Nonsense. I know of a lot of guys who absolutely loathes to dance," she stated helpfully. I merely rolled my eyes at this.

"I'm not the dating type," I stated then.

"Everyone's the dating type. You just haven't found the right guy yet," she said wisely.

"Maybe," I offered half-heartedly.

"Don't worry about it. You can tag along with Ben and me,"

"Oh, no!" I quickly interjected, "I don't want to be the third wheel or anything. Yeah, we can hang at the dance, but I'm taking myself there, with my truck,"

"Fine," she smiled, "I know there's no arguing with you. But at least promise me you'll try to have fun, all right?"

"Yeah," I agreed, "I'll try,"

Mr. Warner entered the classroom then, successfully interrupting our conversation by stating that we were having a pop quiz. The class groaned in unison, including Angela who was currently hitting her head softly against the surface of the desk, muted thuds mingling with whined protests.

***

Gym that day was much better than Wednesday now that the Coach was back. Volleyball was still on the agenda and I finally managed to show him that I had indeed learned how to serve correctly. He praised my skills with a crooked smile, making my whole being go lush and tingle at the same time. It was a weird experience. After that class had ended it was nothing left for the students to do but go home. I stopped by the grocery store to buy ingredients for today's dinner, thinking that Charlie would approve of hamburgers. Of course he did, and once we were settled by the dinner table a few hours later, he told me all about his day. It had been as uneventful as mine.

The next day arrived with a grey but rain-free sky and I thanked the weather gods for giving me a brief break. I could only handle so much rain. It turned out that Angela was too busy dreaming about Ben Cheney and the upcoming dance to do any homework at all, and I offered her to copy my work. She gladly accepted, stating that whenever she tried to work on her own, the "butterflies would interrupt". It unnerved me that I actually understood what she was talking about, as butterflies had taken up constant residence in my stomach, fluttering to life whenever a certain teacher was around. And he certainly would be today because I had yet another tutoring session with him later on. And because I was feeling dreadful and excited at once regarding the upcoming session, the classes flew by. One minute I was talking animatedly to Angela and Mike during lunch, the next I was heading into the huge gym hall with my heart in my throat.

This time Mr. Cullen was already waiting for me, sitting on the bleachers with the damned volleyball resting in his lap. He didn't notice me at first, and as I drew nearer, I took in the sight in front of me. He was wearing sweats today, which was a first. Although he looked good in them – because the Coach would probably look good in anything – I missed the sight of his long and strong legs. His hair was a mess, and as I studied him, his hand came up to ruffle through the strands, making it stand up even more. I had to smile at this. And iPod was situated next to him, the lugs securely set in his ears and I could hear the faint upbeat music as I stopped next to him. The beat sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it.

Finally he saw me and smiled, pulling the plugs out of his ears.

"What are you listening to?" I blurted unthinkingly.

His eyebrows raised in amusement and I bit my bottom lip to keep from saying anything else. Then he picked up the small device and silently handed it to me.

I peeked down at the display and grinned as I saw Pat Benatar with "Hit me with your best shot" written across the surface.

"You've got good taste," I observed.

"Why thank you Miss Swan," he teased as he got to his feet, "I'm glad you approve,"

"You should be, because I've got _excellent _taste," I shot back.

"Is that so?"

"Yes sir," I mocked, "I bet you could learn a thing or two from me,"

"I highly doubt that," he chuckled, pushing the ball at me. I clutched it to my chest and grinned cheekily at him.

"Your loss then," I shrugged.

"I'll take my chances,"

We walked towards the volleyball net set up in the middle of the hall.

"Mrs. Geoff mentioned that you seemed afraid to participate in the game last Wednesday," he said.

"How considerate of her," I scoffed.

The Coach snickered as he situated himself on the other side of the net, across from me.

"I figured we could practice on actually hitting the ball today, seeing as you clearly haven't done much of that,"

"No one will let me get near that thing anymore. I always send it hurling at some innocent bystander," I admitted.

"I'd rather have you knock someone down than not getting a chance at playing," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Then you must really hate your students," I observed lightly.

"You've got a sharp tongue, you know that?" He said on a laugh, his eyes glittering as they caught in the sudden sunlight streaming through the windows. The sight was so breathtaking I nearly forgot to answer.

"So I've been told. It's one of my less charming qualities,"

"Quite the opposite, I find it very charming,"

I was tongue-tied for a while after that.

Mr. Cullen ordered me to throw the ball at him – which I did – only to have him smack it right back at me.

"Hey!" I yelled as I ducked away.

"That's how this game works, Bella," Mr. Cullen smirked, "we send the ball back and forth, and try to catch the other off guard. That's how you earn points, you know,"

"I know that!" I said impatiently, stomping my foot.

"One point for me,"

"I wasn't prepared," I argued.

"In a game like this, you'll always have to be prepared," he replied.

"Fine," I huffed, serving the ball over the net. He caught it with ease and hit the white surface lightly, making it flow in my direction once more.

"What do I do now?" I yelled frantically as it drew nearer.

"Use your fingers!" He ordered.

I lifted my hands over my head and prepared myself, trying not to think about how breakable my fingers were – I knew this from experience.

Just as I stepped forward to hit the ball however, I tripped on my own two feet. I flailed my arms around to catch my balance, which proved to be useless as the ball landed square on my forehead, sending me backwards and onto my butt.

"Ow," I uttered helplessly at the impact, feeling air whoosh out of my lunges.

The Coach was at my side instantly, kneeling down.

"Are you Ok?"

I lifted my head and stared into his eyes, feeling my cheeks redden with embarrassment.

"I'm fine," I said weakly, noticing just how close to me he was as he leaned forward and rubbed my back.

"Did you hurt your tailbone?" He asked worriedly.

"Uh, what?" I asked disorientated, feeling things stir about low in my stomach at the feel of his hand.

"Your tailbone," he repeated, glancing into my face, "is it hurt?"

"No," I shook my head, trying to clear my mind, "my butt took most of the impact,"

His lips lifted up into a charming half-smile.

"I'm Ok," I hastily said as my own words registered in my head, making me flush and even deeper shade of red.

"If you say so," he replied, taking a hold of both of my arms and lifting me up into a standing position. I was still slightly off balance, and my hands instinctively came up to rest on his chest for support.

I looked up at him then and found his eyes fixated on my face, his green orbs dark and inviting. I saw how his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, the motion fascinating me. My heart was beating erratically in my chest and I was afraid he would hear it. His strong hands were still resting on my arms, the skin-to-skin contact making me dizzy. He was so warm and just too much at the same time.

"You really are one of a kind, you know that?" He muttered under his breath as he held on to me. My hands flattened against his chest, and I was surprised when I felt his heart beating hurriedly against my palms – almost as erratic as my own.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I replied, trying to make light of the situation. My attempt failed as his gaze dropped from my eyes to my mouth. My bottom lip quivered from the tension.

"You really should," he whispered.

And then I could only watch in fascination, surprise and passion as he slowly but surely closed the limited space between us.


	11. The Dance

**A/N: **As you might've guessed I have a lot of free time on my hands - so here is a new chapter for you. I know you all absolutely loved the last cliffy (haha) so here's for your lovely reviews!

**Chapter 11 – The Dance**

It was like everything was happening in slow motion. I could hear students outside of the school building, walking to their cars and exchanging goodbyes. The huge clock on the hall wall ticked loudly, the sound echoing through the room. Somewhere on the floor above us someone dropped something, a muted thud running through the ceiling. But all I could see was him as his face drew nearer, only to stop dangerously close to my own.

His green eyes were still open, conflicted emotions running through the orbs. His breath came out in small puffs, ghosting over my face. I could see his stubbles clearly, idly wondering how his jaw would feel beneath my palm. His lips were deep red and tempting, stretched into a thin line as a contemplative look crossed his beautiful features.

_Please don't back out now._

Mr. Cullen didn't disappoint, however. Suddenly there was a small change in him. I could still feel his heartbeat under my hand, thumping hard against his chest. His shoulders squared slightly, as if he was preparing himself for the inevitable. His mouth puckered somewhat and I instinctively knew what was coming. I saw his forehead relax, the worry lines that had rested here completely disappearing. He'd made up his mind.

I took a deep, shaking breath, trying not to think about how his hands suddenly tightened on my bare arms. My pulse was racing, blood swimming wildly through my veins, making me feel light-headed. He pulled me forward, and my forehead grazed his chin. I raised my head, looking up at him, afraid to meet his intense gaze but unable to avoid his eyes at the same time. What I saw there made a small tremble rush through my body. Determination. And then he finally leaned down.

The first brush of his lips against mine caused an odd reaction to my body. My heart suddenly swelled with repressed emotions – feelings that were scary and unfamiliar to me. My hands instinctively left his chest, only to settle around his neck, urging him closer still.

The other brush had my lips tingling with need and I sighed dramatically when he drew back slightly. His eyes were fixated on mine, seemingly searching for some sort of answer. I nodded mutely at his silent request, not entirely sure of what he was asking but willing to grant him anything at this moment.

And then he descended once more, this time settling his lips fully on mine. It was just a momentarily press of flesh against flesh but the butterflies in my stomached awakened in full force. I pushed back eagerly but afraid all the same. Another press and my skin burned, making me feel more alive than I'd ever done before.

We were still looking at each other, his gaze revealing nothing but still managing to make me week in the knees. And then his eyes closed as he came back once more. I followed his example, giving into the moment and letting myself go.

As his lips touched mine, he carefully nudged my mouth open, sucking lightly on my bottom lip. I let out a rush of air, my hands finding the hairs at his nape and twirling them around my fingers. When his soft tongue came out to ask for entrance, I eagerly granted it access, whimpering as it came into contact with mine. His hands moved then, circling around my back and pressing me even closer. Something seemed to snap in him then, as if a switch had been turned on, and he was suddenly crashing harder into me, massaging my tongue urgently with his own. I liked this change and told him so by inching my hips forwards. Our sweats rubbed together and he let out a small groan, making sweat pop out on my forehead. It was by far the sexiest sound I had ever heard. His hands inched down, coming to rest on my butt and he forced me impossibly closer. I moaned, sucking hard on his lips. Our breathing became ragged as we devoured each other, and I was rapidly losing touch with reality and our surroundings.

"Bella," he whispered as his hands came up to tangle itself in my hair, pulling softly. I responded eagerly and moaned, too far gone to feel embarrassed by the sounds escaping my throat. Suddenly a door slammed shut somewhere in the locker rooms and we both froze. He quickly stepped away from me, his hands coming up to rub his face. I stood there, panting and feeling blissfully disorientated for a moment before dread consumed me.

_What the hell have I done?_

Muted footsteps announced that someone was walking around in one of the locker rooms and my gaze swept the hall nervously. We were still alone.

I felt him staring at me and met his gaze, my insides quivering at what I saw there. He looked completely shocked, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. I felt the same way.

The door to the girls' locker room opened and out stepped Angela, her eyes instantly landing on me.

"Bella!" She called, running over to us. She looked panic-stricken as she drew near and I frowned at her.

"Hey, uh," I muttered bewildered and ran a hand through my hair, hoping my blush wouldn't give away what had just taken place between the Coach and me. Angela didn't seem to pay much attention to either of us as he waved her arms wildly around and exclaimed:

"Someone's trashed your car, Bella!"

I frowned in confusing, still feeling a bit dazzled from the kiss.

"Wait, what?"

"It's a wreck! I mean, I guess it's till drivable, but there are eggs and toilet paper and mud and…" Angela stopped to take a deep breath, staring at me with distress.

My eyes widened in realization. The three of us acted at once, rushing through the hall and through the locker rooms. I took the steps leading up to the ground floor two at a time and Angela ran before me and out of the main entrance. A flock of students were gathered around the spot where I'd parked my car but at Mr. Cullen's demand they let us trough. The sight that met us was shocking. There stood my old truck, completely covered from roof to tires in all sorts of things. Angela hadn't been exaggerating – there were wet toilet paper clinging to metallic surface, along with smeared mud and crushed eggs. I stared bewildered at my car, noticing that a single word had been scribbled across the windshield. The word "SLUT" was visible to every onlookers and I took a huge gulp of air. It looked like it had been written with a permanent marker.

"Christ," I heard the Coach mutter under his breath as he stood next to me before his hand landed on my shoulder. I didn't know if it was meant as a comforting gesture, but it worked somewhat – just enough for me to clear my head.

"Who would do such a thing?" I asked to no one in particular.

"I don't know," Angela replied, her eyes full of sympathetic tears as she looked at me.

"Bella, call your father. Now," Mr. Cullen ordered in my ear. I realized that my cell phone was still with the rest of my belongings in the locker room and told him so.

"Here, use mine," Angela urged, thrusting her Nokia into my hand. I quickly dialed Charlie's number.

"Let me talk to him," The Coach said then, snatching the phone away from me as I waited for my father to pick up. I didn't bother argue with him, knowing that he knew how to explain this situation to Charlie better than I did.

More teachers began to settle in among the students, each of them wearing looks of shock and distaste. The principle – Mr. Jackson – ushered the onlookers away. Soon only Angela and I were the only students left.

"Do you have any idea who would do this to you?" Mr. Jackson asked as he came up to stand beside me. Mr. Cullen had drifted a few feet away, talking hurriedly into the phone.

"No," I shook my head, feeling the seriousness of the situation creep up on me.

"It's all right Bella. We'll figure out who did this eventually," Angela said as she laid a comforting arm around my shoulders. I leaned into her side and sniffed, feeling my eyes moisten.

"Chief Swan is on his way," Mr. Cullen said then, suddenly standing next to us again.

Mr. Jackson nodded curtly as he studied my old truck.

We waited in silence, each one of us just eyeing the disaster in front of us. I bit my bottom lip and sighed, knowing that Charlie would do everything in his power to catch whoever was behind this. Who was stupid enough to mess with the Chief police's daughter anyway?

Soon Charlie's cruiser came into sight, along with two other police cars trailing behind. I cringed. This would be blown way out of proportion, I just knew it.

"Bella?" Charlie called once he got of the car and he jogged towards us. When his eyes landed on my truck however, he took a sharp intake of breath.

"Chief Swan," Mr. Jackson greeted seriously, shaking Charlie's hand, "Would you and your daughter come to my office, please?"

"Yes, of course," he nodded, "hey," he said then, turning towards his colleagues who were inspecting the wreck closely, "be sure not to touch anything before you've gotten pictures of it,"

They nodded as one of them pulled out a camera, immediately getting to work.

Charlie placed a hand on my back, steering me after Mr. Jackson as we crossed the lot. Just as I was about to enter the teacher's office however, I turned my head to the side, only to find Mr. Cullen stare thoughtfully at me. He disappeared out of sight as I entered the building.

***

The car was shipped off to the local automobile shop that afternoon. Although it looked to be in the same old shape despite being covered in all sorts of things, Mr. Jackson and Charlie didn't want to take any chances. They were afraid someone might've meddled with the tiers or the brakes and I was too stressed out to argue with them. My beloved car wouldn't be returning for a while it seemed.

After discussing the day's events at the teacher's office, where Mr. Jackson repeatedly asked me if I had any idea of who would do such a thing, Charlie and I drove home in the cruiser. I kept telling them both that I had no enemies in school but judging from their looks they didn't believe me for one sec. The old incident with Lauren Mallory was brought to the surface again, with Mr. Jackson concluding that – for the moment – she was the main suspect. I actually fought for her case, saying that although she had behaved badly in the past, it didn't mean that she had some personal vendetta against me. Obviously both Mr. Jackson and Charlie disagreed.

Dinner was a quiet event in the Swan's household that evening, but that wasn't out of the ordinary. What was uncommon though, was the concerned and worried looks Charlie kept sending my way every few minutes. Eventually I'd had enough and set my knife and fork down, staring determinedly at him.

"What?" He asked through a mouthful of food.

"Can you please stop looking at me like I'm going to break into hysterics at any given moment?" I scolded unhappily.

"Sorry Bells," Charlie said, taking a sip of water, "I'm just worried about you,"

My face softened and I smiled.

"I know you are, but believe me – I'm fine. Sure I was shocked at first but I've had time to adjust this now. I just want my car back and for this to be over with," I concluded.

"We have to solve this case," Charlie said sternly, "no one wrecks my daughter's car and gets away with it,"

"Please dad. I don't want any special favors just because I'm the Chief's daughter," I pleaded.

Charlie nodded in understanding, "I promise I'll treat this incident like any other case. My job is to catch criminals but also to be objective should I cross paths with someone I know. I'll be totally professional about this,"

"Thank you," I said, heaving a sigh of relief.

We finished our meal in usual silence, and I actually managed to fool myself onto thinking that this evening was no different from the others we'd shared. Of course that only lasted for a moment, because the suddenly the phone rang. It had been going off all afternoon and so far I'd talked to Angela, Mike, Tyler and even Eric, all of them offering their comfort and sympathy. This time however, nothing could have prepared me for who was greeting me on the other end of the line.

"Swan residence," I said absentmindedly as I fingered a lock of my hair.

"Hello Miss Swan," came a velvet reply and my heartbeat instantly increased.

"Mr. Cullen," I stated, low enough so that Charlie wouldn't overhear. It was little chance of that happening anyway as he was totally engrossed in the TV at the moment.

I leaned back against the hallway wall, as was my habit.

"How are you?" He asked, sounding tentative.

"I'm all right," I sighed, "still a bit shocked of course, but it's wearing off,"

I knew he was referring to the incident in the parking lot and not what had happened in the gym hall. Just thinking about what had taken place during our tutoring session had me blushing.

"Good," he muttered, "do you have any idea who could've done this?"

"No," I replied tiredly, "Mr. Jackson thinks that Lauren Mallory could be behind it though,"

"Is she still giving you trouble?" He suddenly snapped.

"No," I rushed, "I mean, not as much,"

I remembered Lauren's sly comment in the locker room last Wednesday, but since then she'd left me alone. And for that I was very grateful.

"You remember what I told you right? I want you to go straight to me if she's giving you a hard time,"

"Yeah, I remember," I said.

The line went silent for a while and when the Coach spoke again, he sounded hesitant.

"Are you alone?"

I gulped heavily, sneaking a peak into the living room. No chance of Charlie eavesdropping, I concluded, as I saw him chuckle merrily at some program he was watching.

"Yes," I said.

I could hear Mr. Cullen sigh and I remembered his breath fanning over my face. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, feeling my own breathing pick up at the memory.

"About what happened today…" He started.

"With my car?" I asked hopefully, not really wanting to discuss what had transpired between the two of us in the gym hall.

"No," he huffed impatiently, "before that,"

"Oh," was all I could muster as I waited for him to go on.

When he didn't though, I worried my bottom lip and slid down to sit on the floor, preparing myself for the worst.

"Bella," he finally said, and I closed my eyes as he uttered my name. He made it sound so beautiful.

"Yes?"

"If what we did got out… I could lose my job,"

I frowned, "I wasn't going to tell anyone,"

"No?"

"No!" I snapped, feeling truly offended now.

"I'm sorry, I just…" He sighed, "This job is all I have. I can't risk it,"

I could understand that, but it still didn't lessen my anger.

"Don't worry about it," I replied curtly.

"And I'm sorry Bella. I shouldn't have… done that,"

"What, kissed me?" I asked.

I could hear his sharp intake of breath and smiled smugly. So he wasn't as unaffected by the kiss as he seemed.

"Yes," he replied, "I shouldn't have kissed you,"

"But you did," I pointed out stubbornly.

"I did," he agreed quietly.

"Why?" I asked insecurely. It had been troubling my mind all day since it'd happened – why had a gorgeous man like Edward Cullen chose to kiss a plain-looking, clumsy girl like me?

_Maybe because you basically threw yourself at him._

I silenced the voice in my head and waited for his reply.

"Because I wanted to," he admitted dejectedly, "and I've wanted to for a while now,"

I felt my cheeks burn at his admission.

"But it was wrong of me to do so," he suddenly said, sounding more confident now.

"So, what? You take it back?" I asked incredulously.

"This isn't kinder garden, Bella!" He snapped, "I know I can't take it back. But I can ask you to forget about it,"

"Just like that, huh?" I asked angrily, feeling treacherous tears pool in my eyes.

"I never meant to hurt you," he whispered.

"Well you've officially failed big time,"

"Bella…"

"No, don't "Bella" me! I'm Miss Swan, remember? Your student. And you're right. We should forget all about it," I said, anger surging through my body like fire. I felt betrayed and alone and so misunderstood. How on earth could I think that that kiss actually meant something to him? How could I be so stupid?

"That's exactly my point," he replied, clearly losing his patience, "you _are_ my student. This isn't right!

"Of course it isn't," I replied curtly.

"We agree then?" He sneered.

"Yes, we agree!" I nearly shouted.

"Fine!"

"Great!"

And with that I hung up. Still reeling from Mr. Cullen's hurtful rejection I quickly dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?" A male voice at the other end asked.

"Mike?" I said.

"Bella, is that you?"

"Yeah,"

"What's up?" He asked excitedly, and I could tell that he was beaming.

"I was wondering if your offer still stands. About taking me to the dance?"

"Sure!" He replied gladly.

"Well I've been thinking and I would love to go with you," I said on a smile. This felt so wrong but good at the same time.

"Great! We're going to have so much fun Bella,"

"But no dancing right?"

Mike chuckled, "No dancing,"

***

It was the DD-day - the "dreadful dance" day – and I was eyeing my reflection in the full-length mirror in Angela's bedroom. The blue, satin dress clung to my body like a second skin and I felt truly uncomfortable. Angela gushed and awed over how "beautiful" I looked – of course – so I let her have her fun. She did my hair and makeup –which basically meant straightening my locks and putting on some pretty heavy eye shadow. In the end though, I couldn't muster up the courage to complain. She was really excited about tonight.

As soon as I told her that Mike would be taking me to the dance, she arranged for all four of us to drive together. Mike and Ben would be here to pick us up any minute now and I was struggling with my shoes as I walked around the room. Heels were definitely not my thing.

"What do you think?" Angela beamed as she exited the bathroom, posing in front of me. She was wearing a trap-less black dress that ended mid-thigh.

"Hot!" I exclaimed, noticing that she'd replaced her glasses with contacts for the evening. She really did look exceptionally good.

"Thank you!" She giggled, running over to the mirror to check her makeup once again.

A loud honking coming from outside and alerted us to the boys' presence. We quickly walked into the hallway and threw on our coats, saying goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weber on the way.

"Have fun girls!" Mrs. Weber called happily from the kitchen.

"Will do mom!" Angela promised and winked at me. I snickered and followed her out the door, before jumping into Ben's old Volvo.

"Wow Arizona!" Mike exclaimed astonished once he looked me over. I smiled at him.

"You look beautiful," Ben told Angela sweetly and I could see her blush as she took her place next to him in the front seat.

The guys looked great as well, wearing simple, black suits. Mike's hair was in its usual spikes, making me roll my eyes a little. It was clear he wasn't a person who liked to venture too far out of his comfort zone, despite of the occasion.

The dance was to be held at school, in the gym hall. I hadn't been in there since my last tutoring lesson with Mr. Cullen and I hoped that it wouldn't bring forth unwanted memories. When we arrived the parking lot was nearly full but we managed to find a spot. Juniors were walking around chatting amongst themselves and we followed a group of people inside the school and down to the hall. It was nicely decorated with balloons and small, round tables wearing colored table cloths. They were adorning the side of the hall however, leaving a huge space to be used as a dance floor. Music blared through the room and students were already grinding against each other, making me cringe embarrassedly. Even Angela looked uncomfortable for a moment. We made our way through the crowd and towards a table that held beverages. Mike hurriedly poured me a glass of punch, which I accepted gratefully. I took a small sip and spluttered, eyeing the dark liquid skeptically.

"This is not punch," I muttered to Angela.

She snickered, "I guess someone took the liberty of spiking it up a little,"

I frowned and promptly set the glass aside. I was not used to alcohol and there was no way that I was going to indulge in a first experience during a school dance. Mike didn't seem to have such qualms however as he greedily gulped down the liquid in his glass and refilled it immediately. Oh he was going to be so much fun tonight, I thought wryly.

We made our way to another table and sat down, watching as the disco lights swept over the dancing crowd. Angela and Ben were soon on their feet again however, as a slow song came on. I smirked. Any excuse to be close to another.

I sighed wistfully and stared distastefully at Mike as he finished his third glass.

"Want to dance?" He yelled over the music, offering me his hand.

I rolled my eyes, "I told you Mike – no dancing,"

"Aw, that's right," he grinned and nodded dumbly.

We sat there for a moment, looking at the other students. My shoes were killing me and I took them off, nursing my feet.

"Here, let me," Mike suddenly offered, hoisting my leg into his lap and rubbing my toes. The act seemed intimate to me and I looked around to make sure that no one was watching us. But of course someone was and it was the last person I ever wanted to see tonight.

Mr. Cullen was clearly one of the teachers who'd volunteered to watch over the students for the night, and he was currently standing by the beverages table, staring at me.

I narrowed my eyes and swiftly looked away.

He was wearing a suit, just like the rest of the male inhabitants of the room, but no one could quite pull off the look as good as he. Just the small moment I'd gazed at him turned my insides to mush. I hated myself for being so weak around him.

"I'm going to dance," Mike suddenly declared, standing up and pushing my foot away.

"Ok?" I asked perplexed.

I noticed that he was swaying a little as he stood and I inwardly groaned. Of course my date would be the one to get drunk off his ass.

He left me without a word however, grabbing some random girl and dragging her out onto the floor. The unfamiliar girl didn't seem to mind as she beamed up at him. Well he was one of the most popular guys in school after all.

I sat at the table alone, starting to regret my decision to come to this dance in the first place. I stood out against the setting feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Miss Swan," an all too familiar voice suddenly said.

I looked up and saw the Coach standing next to me, his eyes fixated on my still form.

"May I sit down?" He asked, motioning towards Mike's vacant seat.

I nodded mutely and he placed himself on the plastic chair.

"Having fun?" He asked then, smirking knowingly.

His mood confused me and I shrugged non-cosmetically, showing him that even if he was over what had happened between us, I was not.

"Guess not," he muttered then, resting his arm on the table and leaning closer to me.

"You look amazing,"

I perked up in my seat and huffed, looking down myself.

"Thanks," I said curtly.

"You know, blue is my favorite color," he mused out loud.

Remembering that it was Angela who'd suggested I start wearing blue around him in the first place, I wasn't that surprised.

"Bella," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "at least look at me,"

I let my eyes wander over to where he sat, meeting his gaze. It was as intense as ever, clouds of mysterious thoughts swimming beneath the surface.

"I didn't handle this very well," he said, motioning towards the two of us.

I knew he was referring to our phone conversation. My shoulders sagged and I exhaled heavily, "Neither did I,"

"Still, it's my job to be responsible," he pointed out.

"Why?"

"I'm older," he simply stated.

"So?" I asked perplexed.

"So I should know better than to lose my head like… like I did the other day," he said on nearly a whisper. I actually had to lean closer to hear him better.

"Just because you're older doesn't mean that you're more capable than me to make decisions," I said.

"Doesn't it?" He said, acting surprised.

"No," I snapped, "it doesn't,"

"Very well," he nodded, an unreadable expression entering his face. As I stared he got up and leaned down to mutter in my ear,

"Meet me in the girls' locker room in ten minutes,"

And with that, he was gone.

My whole body was shaking as I stared after his retreating back and I took a moment to collect my emotions. I was quickly snapped out of my Cullen induced bubble however as I was suddenly dragged on my feet.

"Hey!" I yelled as Mike dragged me onto the dance floor.

I was still missing one shoe so I had no choice but to limp after him, unable to break away from a grip.

"Just one dance," he pleaded as a quiet song came on and he clutched me to his chest. I was rigid and uncomfortable in his arms as he swayed us back and forth.

"Really Mike, I don't want to," I hissed with determination.

"One dance won't hurt you," he urged pathetically. I could feel the liquor on his breath as he pressed his cheek to mine and I cringed.

I gave up in resisting and waited impatiently for the song to end, praying that his hands on my back wouldn't venture lower. Of course they did and I jumped.

"Skittish are we?" He snickered.

"Let me go," I complained, trying to break away.

"Not a chance," he sighed dreamily, letting his hand glide through my hair, "I'm never letting you go, Bella,"

I rolled my eyes at the cheesy comment.

It was then, while Mike was holding on to me as if his life depended on it, his hands raking through my strands, that I realized how different it felt from when I'd been in Mr. Cullen's arms. I remembered how my heart had fluttered excitedly at the feel of his lips on mine, how dazzled I'd been as he'd stroked my back. I also remembered how excitedly my body had responded the moment the Coach grabbed my butt and pressed me even closer – something I'd never experienced before. This realization struck me hard and I nearly gasped in surprise. It was while dancing with Mike that I slowly came to the conclusion that my feelings for Mr. Cullen suddenly went deeper than a silly infatuation. And that was very, very dangerous.

Finally the song ended and I broke away from Mike's arms.

"Thanks for the dance," I scoffed irritably, limping away from him and back towards my previous table. My shoe laid on the ground, waiting for me, and I put it on. I didn't know how much time had passed but I guessed my ten minutes were out.

I made my way through the Juniors on my way across the hall, eventually finding myself in front of the door leading in to the girls' locker room. Taking a deep breath and steadying myself, I went inside.

The room was completely empty except for the male figure sitting on one of the benches. He was hunched over, resting his head in his hands. He looked so vulnerable that I wanted to go straight over to him and chase all of his worries away, but chose to stay put instead, my nerves preventing me from acting out my urge.

I hesitantly cleared my throat, making him aware of my presence. He looked up then and stared at me. His eyes roamed over my shaking body and I worried my bottom lip nervously.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," he smiled weakly.

I chuckled, the sound loud in the empty room. I tentatively closed the space between us and sat down next to him.

A small while passed by with neither of speaking. Suddenly he turned towards me, his eyes dark.

"I thought you didn't like Mike Newton,"

Oh so he'd noticed that, had he? I smiled a little at this realization.

"He's a good friend," I shrugged.

"You seemed more than just friendly out there," he said, motioning towards the hall. I frowned in confusion.

"I expected that, with your lack of coordination, you wouldn't be the dancing type,"

Had he seen me dance with Mike? But hadn't he been in here since he'd left me at the table?

_Clearly not._

"He wants more," I admitted.

"Oh," he nodded, looking straight ahead.

"I don't," I said then.

"You don't?"

"No,"

He chuckled darkly, "I shouldn't be so relieved to hear you say that,"

I lowered my gaze and wrung my hands together nervously. I was interrupted however, when he placed his large hand over my own, stilling my movements.

"What's going on?" I wondered out loud, my voice barely a whisper.

"I don't know," was his defeated reply.

Silently I felt his hand close over mine and I took a deep breath. I opened up my palm as an invitation and he accepted without hesitance, intertwining his fingers with mine. Our hands were resting on my lap and I stroked his warm skin carefully, feeling my heartbeat speed up.

We sat there for several minutes, our hands clutched together, not looking at one another.

"This is so wrong," Mr. Cullen muttered after a while.

"I know," I gulped.

He met my eyes then, his expression troubled.

"Tell me what you think," he pleaded.

I didn't know what to say to that so I simply squeezed his hand and whispered, "Don't let go,"

His mouth pulled into a half-smile and my gaze followed the motion. Then I met his eyes again in a silent question. I didn't have to wait for a reply though because suddenly his mouth came crashing onto mine, consuming all of my senses. I willingly parted my lips for him and his tongue delved into my mouth frantically. I shuddered as his hands came up to tug at my hair and without thinking I pulled him over me as I laid down on the bench. This was wrong and too much and too soon – yet I couldn't care less.

He groaned lustfully as he settled on top of me, making my lower belly tingle.

"Bella," he whispered, just like he'd done that day when we'd first started this – whatever this was – and I whimpered in reply.

"We can't. Not here. Someone might come in and see us any minute," he said, but continued to suck on my bottom lip, seemingly as reluctant to let go as I was.

My breath hitched audibly as his knee came to rest between my thighs, my dress pooling around my waist. And I panicked because this was as far as I'd ever gone and we were in a public place and we simply didn't know each other well enough. As if he could feel the tension immobilizing my body, the Coach stopped his attack on my lips and rested his forehead against mine.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't apologize, I was in on it too," I smiled mischievously. He grinned at me then, taking my hand and pulling me up with him. We sat next to each other once more and I tried to smooth down my hair a bit as he did the same to his. It was futile, his hair stuck up in every direction possible.

"I don't think I'll be able to stay away from you any longer," he admitted then, his face strangely vulnerable as he looked at me.

I felt my heart clench, "Then don't,"

He shook his head and sighed, "You make it sound so easy,"

"But it's not," I stated.

"It's really not," he chuckled, "a lot is at stake here – for both of us,"

I still didn't understand what this man could see in little, old me but I decided not to voice these thoughts. It just wasn't the right time, but at least I now knew that Mr. Cullen must feel something for me. A kiss like that didn't just mean _nothing._

We didn't speak as we got to our feet and headed towards the hall. The right words wouldn't come and I couldn't really figure out what to say to him anyway. We parted ways with smiles and a nod of our heads, Mr. Cullen wandering off to make his rounds and me heading for Mike once again.


End file.
